



dass_ ..: 



Book. 



t 

ON THE 



COMFORTS OF OLD AGS?.* 



WITH 
BIOGRAPHICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 

BY 

SIR THOMAS ^BERNARD, BARONET. 

Lenior et meliorfa accedente senecta. 

SECOND EDITION. 

^aryofCo.^ 

mi 

LONDON ~\ ;> * Sftrffcitf*** 



JOHN MUEEAY, ALBEMAELE-STEEET. 

1817. 



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fe^ 



V 



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London : Printed by W. Bulmer and Co. 
Cleveland-row, St. James's. 



INSCRIBED . TO . 

SHUTE . BISHOP . OF . DURHAM . 

AS . A . SxMALL . TESTIMONY . OF . 

AFFECTION . AND . GRATITUDE . 

BY . THE . AUTHOR . 



CONTENTS 



page 

Preface - 1 

Bsihop Gibson - - 11 

Mr. Lyttelton - 15 

Marriage Union 17 

Evidences of Revelation - 23 

Conversion of St. Paul - - 24 

Journey through Life - 26 

Internal Resources - - - 29 

Inconveniences of age 32 

1st. — Unfitness for public Life - 34 

William the Third - - - 35 

Duke of Marlborough - — 

Sergeant Maynard - - 36 

Lord Somers - - - 37 

Sir Isaac Newton - 38 

Clement the Twelfth - 39 

Marshal Villars - - - 40 

Solon - 43 

Cardinal Fleury - - 44 

Sir Robert Walpole - - -45 

Archbishop Sancroft - 47 

2nd. — Infirmity of body - - 51 

Temperance - - — 



Vlll CONTENTS. 




Corporal strength 
Account of Spurinna 


page 

53 

- 54 


Milton and Homer 


56 


3d. — Loss of animal enjoyment 
Mental Pleasures 


58 
- 59 


Progress of Intellect 


60 


Connubial Attachment 


- 62 


4th. — Anxiety about Death 
Animal pain of dying 
Lord Russel 


63 

- 65 

67 


Queen Mary 
Queen Caroline 


68 


Terrors of an unknown World 


- 69 


Tribute to the Memory of a Friend 


72 


Sources of Consolation 


74 


Use of Afflictions 


- 76 


Omission of Prayer 
Neglect of the Sacrament 


- 77 

78 


Religious Despondency 
Intercession of Christ 


79 

- 80 


Comforts of old Age 


81 


Episcopal Exemptions 
Cornaro - 


82 
88 


Sir John Floyer - 


- 84 


Melioration of temper 


85 


Self-examination 


- 87 


Sources of Cheerfulness 


88 


Vain and fruitless desires 


, - 91 


Personal Anxiety 


- 93 



CONTENTS. IX 

page 

Political Anxiety 95 

Religious Anxiety 97 

Progress of Infidelity - - -98 

Union of Christians - - — 

Error and Heresy - - - 100 

Enthusiasm - - 102 

The Methodists - - 104 

Social Intercourse - - 108 

Cheerful Habits - - 110 

Effects of a studious Life - - 114 

Amusing Books - - - 116 

Voyages and Travels - - - 118 

Cervantes and Le Sage - - 119 

Moliere and Shakespeare - - 120 

Arabian Nights - - - 121 

Diamonds - - - 124 

Duty of Charity - - - 127 

Extent of Example - - 129 

Employment of Time - - 130 

Building - 132 

Occupation - - 134 

Retrospective Reflections - - 136 

Universal Education - - 137 

Liberty - - 138 

Prospective Views - - - 13y 

Weariness of Mind - - - 140 

Sympathetic Affections - - 143 

Indulgences in Old Age - - 145 

Intellectual Enjoyment - - - 149 



X CONTENTS. 




Meditations on Immortality 


page 
152 


Nature of the Soul 


153 


Views of a future state 


- 154 


Constancy of the Martyrs 


157 


Increase of Knowledge 


- 159 


Intellectual Beauty 


160 


Philosophy of Revelation 


161 


Re-union with Friends 


- 162 


Conclusion 


163 



Notes and Biographical Illustrations. 

Bishop Hough - - - lC7 

Bishop Gibson - - 170 

Mr. Lyttelton - - - 171 

Evidences of Revelation - - 1 74 

Duke of Marlborough - - - 175 

Lord Somers - - - 177 

Sir Christopher Wren - - 179 

Mr. Waller - - - 180 

Sir Isaac Newton - - - 181 

Clement the Twelfth - - 182 

Marshal Villars . - - — 

Cardinal Fleury - - - 18 5 

Sir Robert Walpole - - 186 

Archbishop Sancroft - - 187 

Archbishop Leighton - - 190 



CONTENTS. 

?- ; ; ^ 

Arrangement of time 

Queen Mary - - • 197 

Death of a Friend - - 198 

Cornaro - - 199 

Sir John Floyer - - - 204 

Bible Society - - — 

Chillingworth - - 206 

Fenelon - - - 210 

Methodism - - -213 

Immortality - - - 215 

Studious Men - - - 218 

Cervantes - - - 217 

Hoarding - - - 224 

Charity School - - 225 

Occupation - - 226 

Parental Affection - - - 228 

Death of Maccail - - 229 

Close of Life - - -230 



PREFACE. 



Infancy conducts to youth, youth to mature 
life, and mature life to old age and immortali- 
ty. In the two first of these periods, the pre- 
paration is regularly made for the succeeding 
state of action, and systems of tuition are 
adopted, to fit the traveller for the progres- 
sive stages of his journey. But the close of 

B 



2 PREFACE. 

life is seldom made the subject of prepara- 
tory contemplation. For while to some it is 
an object of terror, by others it is treated 
with affected neglect ; and the greater part 
of mankind, immersed in the cares and con- 
cerns of the world, and in a contest for the 
toys and baubles, the crowns and sceptres, 
of the little scene in which they are acting a 
part, seem to have forgotten the great the- 
atre to which they are ultimately destined. 

I am aware that in the hurry of busy life, 
amidst those professional and political ef- 
forts and exertions, which are generally 
useful to the community, and sometimes 
promote the welfare of the party himself, 
this preparation cannot always be properly 
attended to, In active life, however, while 
we are striving for independence and com- 
petence, it is prudent at least, to make pre- 
paration for the time, when we may decline 
every other labour, except what concerns 



PREFACE. 3 

the interest of our friends, connections, and 
dependants, or the welfare of the com- 
munity. 

The object, therefore, to which I point, 
is the securing of a middle period, during 
which our exertions may be so directed, as 
by duties performed and benefits conferred, 
to produce consolatory reflections, against 
the approach of age and infirmity; so that 
we may view the grave, not as a scene of 
terror, but as the source of hope and expec- 
tation. In the course of directing my atten- 
tion to this interesting subject, the intimacy 
with which your Lordship has favoured me, 
has afforded the most satisfactory evidence, 
that age is not necessarily attended either 
with infirmity of body or asperity of mind ; 
and that when they do occur, it is the effect 
of unregulated appetites and passions, of a 
morbid constitution, or of natural sourness 
of temper. Indeed I have been much grati- 



4 PREFACE. 

fied to perceive, that the effects of age may 
be directly the reverse ; and that the feel- 
ings and affections of the mind may become 
softer and milder, more kind and more be- 
nevolent, as the child of immortality 
approaches the commencement of his spiri- 
tual existence. 

In collecting and arranging the produce 
of my reading and meditation on this sub- 
ject, with the hope, which all writers che- 
rish but many endeavour to conceal, that the 
work may prove worthy of favourable ac- 
ceptance, I consider myself as a labourer 
employed for my own benefit and that of 
others, on the road which leads down the 
decline of life, in rendering it more safe and 
easy ; not indeed working entirely with my 
own materials, but in part with what have 
been left as common property, and for the 
general use of mankind ; happy, most happy, 
if my efforts may be of service to others; 



PREFACE. 



and may contribute to their security and 
comfort, in their pilgrimage to that country 
which has been the object of desire to the 
wise and virtuous of all ages. 



*'O v 



When I inscribe my work to your Lord- 
ship, I am sensible that it is not in my power 
to give either advice or assistance. I do not 
presume even to offer hints or suggestions ; 
but I am anxious not to forego the oppor- 
tunity, of acknowledging the advantages 
which I have received during the time that 
I have turned my attention to this subject ; 
and to declare my conviction, that with well 
regulated passions and appetites, the incon- 
veniences of age may be so far mitigated, as 
to leave little more of painful impression, 
than is necessary to prepare the tenant of 
this mortal body for his passage to eternity. 
As to myself it is no small advantage, that 
my meditation on this topic has not only had 
the passing effect of filling up hours not 



6 PREFACE. 

otherwise occupied, and of amusing and 
gratifying me at the time ; but it has left in 
my mind permanent impressions, such as I 
am willing to hope, should my life be exten- 
ded, will not only reconcile me to the priva- 
tions and inconveniences of age, but may 
render that period of life in some degree 
acceptable. 

Of the materials w r hich Cicero posses- 
sed, no one could have made a better use, 
than he has done in his Essay on Old Age. 
But the Gospel has since opened purer and 
more valuable sources of consolation than 
are to be found in Polytheism and heathen 
Philosophy. The miserable uncertainty, or 
affected indifference, of some of their best 
and wisest men with regard to a future state, 
form a striking contrast to the sure and cer- 
tain hope, which reliance on the word of 
God, and faith in the merits of our Re- 
deemer, will supply during age and infir- 



PREFACE. 7 

mity, to the poorest and humblest Christian, 
— who 

Sinks to the grave by unpereeiv'd decay- 
While resignation gently slopes the way ; 
And all his prospects brightening to the last, 
His heaven commences ere this world be past. 

In adopting the form of a dialogue passing 
between eminent men of the same period, I 
have followed the example of Cicero. The 
venerable Bishop Hough is the Cato of my 
Drama; a prelate, who enjoyed an extraor- 
dinary degree of health of body and mind, 
to the advanced age of ninety-two : and 
died, as he had lived, respected and beloved. 
He is w r ell known for his manly resistance, 
as President of Magdalen College, to the 
tyranny of James the Second. His private 
letters, lately published by our friend Mr. 
Wilmot, present an amiable portrait of his 
mind ; and have enabled me, in some de- 
gree, to mark his peculiar manners and 



8 PREFACE. 

mode of expression ; so as to offer a view of 
his character in his ninetieth year, in the 
spring which succeeded the hard frost of 
1739, the point of time which I have fixed 
for this Dialogue. The two other parties 
are his friend and correspondent, Bishop 
Gibson, then Bishop of London, and Mr. 
Lyttelton (afterwards Lord Lyttelton) his 
neighbour in the country. 

In having at first fixed on the title of Spu- 
rinna, I was influenced by a letter of Pliny's^ 
the first in his third book ; — a letter which I 
never read without real gratification, in- 
creased by circumstances of resemblance in 
habits, character, and period of life ; which 
if, from one peculiar cause, they do not 
strike your Lordship, will, I am confident, 
not escape the application of my other rea- 
ders : even though I should give them no 
larger an extract than the following ; — Illi 

POST SEPTIMUM ET SEPTUAGENTISSIMUM An- 



PREFACE. 9 

num, aurium oculorumque vigor integer ; 
Inde agile et vividum Corpus, solaque ex 
Senectute Prudentia. 



11 



THE 



COMFORTS OF OLD AGE. 



JDishop Hough, My valued Brother of 
London, I have great pleasure in pressing 
your hand. In truth, I rejoice at the cir- 
cumstance, which has brought your Lord- 
ship into Worcestershire ; may I hope, in 
good health. You have not, I trust, suffered 
from the severity of a Siberian winter, un- 
parallelled in our mild climate. 



12 THE COMFORTS 

Bishop Gibson. I wish, my dear Lord, 
I could give you as favourable an account of 
my health, as your kindness calls for. The 
intense cold of this season has, indeed, been 
too much for me : and though your junior in 
years, I feel myself your senior in age and 
infirmity : but why name age and infirmity 
to you, who have so little claim to commi- 
seration on that score ? 

Bishop Hough. Blessed be God for his 
great mercies to me ! I have to day entered 
into my ninetieth year, with less of infirmity 
than I could have presumed to hope, and 
certainly with a degree of calmness and 
tranquillity of mind, which is gradually in- 
creasing, as I daily approach the end of my 
pilgrimage. I think indeed that my life 
must now be but of short duration ; and I 
thank God, the thought gives me no uneasi- 
ness. 



OF OLD AGE. 18 

BisHOP Gibson. If you, Bishop of Wor- 
cester, were uneasy on this subject, what 
must be the feelings of others ? But in good 
sooth, you are so hale and strong, that I 
think, after all, I shall give you the go-bye , 
and precede you. 

Bishop Hough. Nay, my friend ! what- 
ever may be said in favour of it, old age is a 
losing game. Months now count to me more 
than years did formerly ; and your Lordship 
has above twenty years to pass, before you 
arrive at my number. You have a good na- 
tural constitution : but pardon me, if, as 
your friend, 1 complain of your having made 
too severe a trial of its strength. Your la- 
borious publications on the errors of Popery, 
at the same time that they have been univer- 
sally approved, have occasioned much anx- 
iety in the minds of your friends, who trem- 
ble for the effect of such continued exertions. 
It is our duty to employ our talents for the 
good of others: and how can we better 



16 THE COMFORTS 

devotes his life to the service of the public, 
merits that his years should be many and 
happy. How is your worthy father, my 
friend and neighbour, Sir Thomas ? 

Mr. Lyttelton. I am most thankful 
that I can give a favourable account of him. 
Though not wholly exempt from infirmity, 
yet in his retreat at Hagley, the blessings 
with which providence has favoured him, 
are received with a degree of gratitude, that 
enhances the enjoyment. 

Bishop Hough. You have indeed a gar- 
den of Eden, my young friend, prepared for 
you at Hagley : and I hope the report is true, 
that you are occupied in the delightful task 
of inviting an Eve to enjoy and adorn it. 
Whoever be the fair unknown, I will trust 
in your taste, that the virtues of the heart, 
and endowments of the mind will not be for- 
gotten. 



OF OLD AGE. 17 

Mr. Lyttelton. Whether your Lord- 
ship's intelligence be corrector no, time will 
shew. — Bat what I heard as I entered, gave 
me hopes of instruction from you as to the 
comforts of age, and the means which I 
must employ to secure those comforts, 
should my life be extended. Instead there- 
fore of referring to the passing concerns of 
youth, allow me to add my request to the 
Bishop of London's, that you will favour us 
with the secret of attaining those comforts 
in advanced life, which you seem so abun- 
dantly to enjoy. 

Bishop Hough. One of its greatest com- 
forts, is to regard with sympathy and satis- 
faction the happiness of others, and to look 
back with complacency on the pleasures of 
youth. Of all temporal and worldly enjoy- 
ments, Mr. Lyttelton, the marriage union 
with a congenial mind, animating a pleasing 
frame, is by far the greatest. To me it is 

C 



18 THE COMFORTS 

always a gratification to sympathize with 
the young in their enjoyments. I become 
more a participator in their youthful feelings 
than my aged and cold blood could have 
promised : and I profess to you, my young 
friend, that when the day arrives of your 
union with the fair object of your choice, I 
shall almost feel myself a bridegroom ; re- 
tracing in my recollection that happy hour, 
which united my dearest friend to me. The 
separation indeed, at the time, was bitter ; 
but that bitterness is now passed ; a fond 
regret remains, mingled with more and more 
pleasing sensations, and acquiring increased 
softness and tenderness, as I hourly ap- 
proach nearer and nearer to the period of 
our re-union. I now humbly confide in her 
being soon restored to me, in a state of eter- 
nal and unchang ng happiness, promised by 
the revealed word of God, to those who have 
faithfully served him in their day and gene- 
ration. 



OF OLD AGE. 19 

Mr, Lyttelton. Happy they, who can 
thus direct their eyes to the grave ! — That I 
am looking to such an union, as your Lord- 
ship so feelingly describes, I am ready to ad- 
mit ; and, at the same time, I cannot deny 
that I once held heretical opinions on the 
subject. It appeared to me, that so much 
was required, — so intimate a blending of 
hearts and wishes, — such unlimited affection 
and unbounded confidence, — that the mar- 
ried state must be the extreme, either of 
happiness, or misery, 

Bishop Hough. In a world of trial like 
this, calculated to prepare us for a world 
where bliss is complete and permanent, it is 
wrong to entertain hopes of perject happi- 
ness, in any condition of life. Such hopes 
can only lead to disappointment and vexa- 
tion. Still less should we be terrified by ap- 
prehensions of extreme misery. In a transi- 
tory state like the present; there will be per- 



20 THE COMFORTS 

petual occurrences to dimmish the one, and 
to mitigate the other ; thus producing in 
the moral, as in the natural world, an equa- 
lity of temperature. — The wind is tempered 
by the word that created it. — When parties 
fitted for each other by habits and studies, 
by modes of thinking, by system of occupa- 
tion, by temper, disposition, and above all 
by moral and religious feelings, — when 
such parties unite in wedlock, — let them co- 
operate with hand and heart in the duties 
and charities of life, — and they will find the 
greatest degree of happiness which this pro- 
bationary world can afford, and the best 
preparation for that kingdom, the joys and 
pleasures of which are perfect and eternal. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Let me then humbly 
hope, that an early union with a pure, un- 
tainted mind, may be the means of conduct- 
ing me happily and surely to those blissful 
regions. And on this subject, my Lord 



OF OLD AGE, 21 

Bishop, I will confess myself to you as my 
Diocesan, in presence of the Bishop of Lon- 
don, In the early part of ray life, — and I 
look back with surprise and regret — I was 
more than shaken with regard to the truths 
of Revelation. The levity of some of my 
fellow collegians, the cavils and objections 
of the new sect of Freethinkers, and the to- 
tal want of all spiritual advice, had unsettled 
my mind at the university. These however 
w r ould have had no permanent effects on 
me, but for the answers which were given 
to those cavils and objections ; — answers 
which, though offered with confidence, ap- 
peared to me to be perfectly weak and im- 
potent : I therefore presumed them to be 
unanswerable. 

Bishop Gibson. Christianity has suffered 
as much by weak and injudicious advocates, 
as by the open attacks of infidelity. When 
I see a man presuming hastily to answer 



22 THE COMFORTS 

objections, the force and extent of which he 
has never fully considered, I am almost in- 
clined to wish he had taken the other side, 
and to cry out, Adversaria da isium Patro- 
num. Such men, however sincere and well- 
intentioned, generally injure the cause they 
propose to support. 

Mr. Lyttelton. When I went on my 
travels, what I saw and heard of Christia- 
nity in many parts of Europe, left me, as I 
fear it has done many other young travellers, 
in a state of little better than rank infidelity. 
Since my return to England, however, I 
have held it a duty to study the Scriptures 
with care and attention ; and on a subject 
of such infinite importance, seriously to 
weigh the evidence by which their authenti- 
city is supported; and I am indeed most 
thankful that the mists which had obscured 
my understanding are now dissipated; and 
that I enjoy the glorious light of the gospel, 



OF OLD AGE. 23 

as the director of my path through this pro- 
bationary state. 

Bishop Gibson. The revealed word of 
God will afford not only the best, but the 
only authentic and satisfactory information, 
to direct and inform the mind in this respect. 
For when we consider what may be done by 
perfect wisdom and goodness, operating 
with absolute power, over infinity of space, 
the mind is lost in the contemplation, and 
necessarily recurs to revelation, as the only 
source of knowledge on a subject, so passing 
the limited faculties of man. At the same 
time, the variety of the evidence which may 
be adduced in support of Revelation, affords 
a very striking confirmation of its truth ;— 
"the proofs from prophecy — from miracles — 
from the character of Christ — from that of 
his Apostles — from the nature of the doc- 
trines of Christianity, whether considered 
each in itself, or in their mutual relation to 



24 THE COMFORTS 

each other— from other species of internal 
evidence, afforded in more abundance in 
proportion as the sacred records have been 
scrutinized with greater care — and from the 
accounts of contemporary writers — are 
such, that it seems to be morally impossible, 
that so many different kinds of proof, and all 
so strong, should have lent their concurrent 
aid, and united their joint force ; in the esta- 
blishment of falsehood/* 

Mr. Lyttelton. There is no accounting 
for the promulgation and early prevalence of 
Christianity, on any other supposition than 
that of its Truth. How otherwise can we 
explain the instantaneous conversion of 
many thousands of all ranks, opinions, and 
countries? How can we otherwise, among 
many examples, account for the conversion of 
St. Paul ; a fact established on the clearest 
and most decisive evidence, and sufficient 
)a itself to convince any fair and candid 



OF OLD AGE, 25 

mind, of the truth of Christianity ? 1 have 
weighed the circumstances of that case with 
minute attention ; and if I could but satisfy 
myself that discussions of this kind came 
within the scope of a Layman, I might, at 
some future period, venture to offer to the 
public the result of my inquiries on that sub- 
ject: but I should be sorry to be thought 
improperly to interfere with the concerns of 
a profession, to which I have not the honour 
to belong. 

Bishop Hough. Religion, my young 
friend, is the business of every one. Its ad- 
vancement and decline in a country, are so 
intimately connected with national prospe- 
rity and with the temporal interests of soci- 
ety that, it is quite as much the concern of 
the Statesman, as of the Ecclesiastic. 

Bishop Gibson. Allow me further to 
observe, Mr. Lyttelton, that what a Layman 



26 THE COMFORTS 

writes on the subject of Religion, will be 
perused with more candour, and be more 
exempt from the imputation of interested 
motives or professional prejudices. — But, 
Bishop of Worcester, I must remind you of 
our request, that you would impart to us 
your antidote to the aches and infirmities of 
age. 

Bishop Hough. I never peruse the ac- 
count of the journey of the Israelites through 
the Wilderness, as given by Moses in the 
Pentateuch or abridged by David in the 
Ixxviii Psalm, without considering it as a 
type of the Christian's passage through this 
probationary state. The world is the wil- 
derness, through which we are travelling ; 
and if we are asked what is our country, we 
may point with Anaxagoras, to Heaven. — 
Like the children of Israel we have difficul- 
ties and dangers to encounter, but we have 
the Light of Revelation to direct our path? 



OF OLD AGE. 27 

and to guide us by night and by day. We 
also have the living waters, are nourished 
with angels food, and fed wifh the bread of 
heaven. It therefore ill becomes us, as we 
approach the promised land, to murmur and 
be dispirited, because we are weaker and 
more wearied. With the blessed Jerusa- 
lem in view, approaching the holy rest of 
God, we need desire no more strength, than 
will carry us to our journey's end. Viewing 
this world in its true light, as a passage to a 
better, we shall find all the periods of life 
under the same directing providence ; and 
we may be assured that our Creator has 
not left the last stage of our corporeal exis- 
tence imperfect ; but has apportioned to each 
its duties and enjoyments. — When every 
other part of the drama of life has been so 
well provided for, it can hardly be supposed 
that the last act should have been entirely 
neglected. Every period of our existence 
has its gratifications, as every season of the 



28 THE COMFORTS 

year produces its peculiar enjoyments. The 
bloom of spring, the gleam of summer, and 
the rich produce of autumn may be passed 
and gone : but to those who have made due 
preparation, the cheerful fireside and the so- 
cial comforts of winter will not be less ac- 
ceptable. When, however, I say this, I 
except those cases, where individuals have 
so applied the former part of life, as to leave 
the latter blank and comfortless : I only 
mean to assert, that if our youth be so em- 
ployed as not to embitter the decline of life, 
we shall find enjoyments allotted to every 
period of our existence. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Let me then request 
you to state the nature of those enjoyments, 
and the means of attaining them. 

Bishop Hough, I shall most willingly 
comply with your request. But in observing 
on the comforts provided for the close of 



OF OLD AGE. 29 

life, you must not expect novelty. Much of 
what I shall have to say is derived from 
books, some part from conversation, other 
part from reflection : and the whole is so 
blended and amalgamated in my mind, that 
it will be hardly practicable to distinguish 
what I have borrowed, from my own pro- 
perty. Let therefore one acknowledgment 
serve for all. — And again, remember that 
while one of the pleasures of age is to be of 
use to others, that of hearing oneself chatter 
is another : I shall therefore strive to set a 
watgh upon my tongue. Homer, you recol- 
lect, compares the prattle of Priam's aged 
counsellors, to the unceasing chirping of 
grasshoppers. — But to proceed : — they who 
possess no resources within themselves, will 
find weariness and vexation in every period 
of life : for while the current of animal 
spirits is only to be kept up by the external 
stimulants of pleasure, vanity, pride, cupi- 
dity, and ambition, a degree of langour and 



30 THE COMFORTS 

listlesness must at times inevitably take 
place ; and particularly in old age, when 
the sensual appetite being diminished, the 
power of looking inwards for intellectual 
pleasure, becomes more and more essential 
to the well-being of the rational creature. 
The misfortune is, that if the mind be not 
adequately supplied with proper and rational 
objects, the seeds of envy, petulance, malice, 
sensuality, avarice, and revenge, will take 
root in the vacant space, and produce their 
harvest in the autumn of life. When, there- 
fore, I am speaking of the enjoyments of the 
aged, I presume that the prior life has been 
such as to merit enjoyment. The best and 
surest guard against the inconveniences of 
age, is to study through life the precepts of 
the Gospel, and to perform the duties it pre- 
scribes. The good seed thus sown in the 
spring of life, will be abundantly productive 
of consolation, in every subsequent period: 
for it is not merely at the dying hour, but 



OF OLD AGE. 31 

during every other portion of existence, and 
particularly in old age, that the memory of 
useful and benevolent exertions affords a 
source of gratification. On the contrary, 
what degree of comfort can an old man rea- 
sonably expect, who, at the close of this 
brief and chequered life, cannot console him- 
self with the memory of any one duty ful- 
filled, either to God or man ? — who has 
applied his talents and possessions to no one 
good or useful purpose; but has directed 
their concentrated power to the mean, soli- 
tary, and unworthy objectof self-gratification! 
— I speak not of the comforts of such an old 
age. They who have provided no resources 
of intellect, and no traces of beneficence to 
individuals, or of services to the community, 
have no claim to comfort at the close of life. 
The moral government of the Supreme 
Being would (if 1 may presume to use the 
expression) be impeached, if they who had 
attempted to live only to themselves, — were 



32 THE COMFORTS 

capable of calm and unqualified enjoyment 
in old age. 

Bishop Gibson. I think, Bishop of Wor- 
cester, I can read in Mr. Lyttelton's counte- 
nance, that he feels very fully the force of 
your observations. Let us therefore request 
that, before you notice the positive comforts 
of age, you will advert to those inconvenien- 
ces of advanced life, which are not the 
effects of misconduct, but the necessary con- 
comitants of length of years. 

Bishop Hough. In these I presume then 
that you will not include poverty, sickness, 
casualties, and those things which are com- 
mon to every period of life. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Certainly not ; at least 
no further than they are aggravated by age. 

Bishop Gibson, And yet against that 



OF OLD AGE. 33 

aggravation should be opposed this circum- 
stance ; that the aged, at least those who 
have been provident, are generally more pro- 
tected against want, and less liable to casu- 
alties, than the young. 

Bishop Hough. Perhaps we may fairly 
set the one against the other. 1 shall there- 
fore venture to exclude them from the 
account ; and adopting the Ciceronian ar- 
rangement, class the inconveniences of age 
under the four following heads : — 1st. that 
it unfits for public life ; — 2nd. is attended 
by infirmity of body ; — 3rd. diminishes the 
power of animal enjoyment: — and 4th. is a 
state of anxiety on account of the approach 
of death. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Is not the failure of me- 
mory to be included under the inconveni- 
ences of age ? 

D 



34 THE COMFORTS 

Bishop Hough. Certainly. — But I con- 
sider it, wherever it exists, whether in age 
or youth, as an infirmity which may unfit for 
public life ; protesting however that, with 
exception of cases where the constitution 
has been originally defective or the memory 
impaired by non-exercise, the recollection of 
the aged is in general detailed and minute. 
The fact indeed has been often noticed, that 
the oldest witnesses are more clear and dis- 
tinct in their testimony, than the younger. — 
But to consider the first objection of unfit- 
ness for public life. There is no d ubt but 
that the aged are less fit for enterprises, 
which require bodily activity and strength : 
but they are not therefore disqualified for the 
conduct of business, or less fit for counsel, 
advice, or direction. And I must observe 
that in the Government of Empires, it 
is knowledge and experience, not youth, 
and temerity, that are essential. The ad- 
vantages of young counsellors have been 



OF OLD AGE. 35 

proverbial, ever since the revolution which 
followed the death of Solomon. Need I, 
Mr. Lyttelton, to one of your scale of intel- 
lect, observe that with civilised man, it is 
counsel not force, mind not body, that must 
govern. Agamemnon in his speech to the 
aged Nestor, did not wish for the athletic 
strength of youth, but for the experienced 
wisdom of age, to conquer Troy ; as Mr. 
Pope has well translated it : 

Oh would the Gods, in love to Greece, decree 
But ten such sages as they grant in thee ! 
Such wisdom soon should Priam's force destroy, 
And soon should fall the haughty towers of Troy. 

It was not by corporeal but by intellectual 
vigour, that our Royal Master, William, 
and our English Hero, Marlborough, per- 
formed those great achievements, for the 
preservation of our civil and religious liber- 
ties, and for the salvation of Europe. It was 



36 THE COMFORTS 

not muscular strength, but mental reflection 
working by experience, that instructed the 
former to baffle the intrigues of Lewis, 
aiming at universal monarchy ; and when in 1 
January 1704 the Emperor of Germany, 
alarmed at the progress of the French arms, 
and at the defection of the Duke of Bavaria, 
implored the aid and protection of the 
Queen and people of England to save the 
Roman empire from impending ruin, it was 
acuteness and sagacity of mind, that enabled 
Marlborough to compel the surrender of the 
entire French army at Blenheim, and in 
one day to annihilate the tyrannic and de- 
structive power of France. — Among those 
who congratulated our deliverer upon his 
welcome arrival in 1688, one of the gayest 
and most lively courtiers that I saw in the 
whole party, was Serjeant Maynard, then 
about my present age. I observed the kind- 
ness with which the Prince complimented 
him on his period of life (he was then nine- 



OF OLD AGE. 37 

ty), and on his having out-lived all the law- 
yers of his time : " I might (replied the old 
man) have out-lived the law too, if your 
Highness had not arrived/' — His spirit was 
just the same, as when some years before, 
he so ably opposed the bill for constructive 
treason : and at the advanced age of ninety, 
he was not deemed unfit to be placed at the 
head of the High Court of Chancery, in 
times extremely critical and difficult ; nor 
was he found unequal to the pressure of bu- 
siness which then took place. — Neither did 
our excellent friend Lord Somers shew less 
vigour in projecting the union in 1708, than 
he displayed twenty years before in the esta- 
blishment and recognition of the title of their 
Majesties, and in the able support which he 
gave to the act of convention : or even in a 
latter period, at the close of the rebellion in 
1715, when under the pressure of greatbodily 
infirmity, but retaining his own native vigour 
of mind, he reprobated those severe mea- 



38 THE COMFORTS 

sures against the rebel Lords, which have 
had the effect of converting Tories into Jaco- 
bites ; and exclaimed to the Minister, "Do 
u you then mean to revive the proscriptions 
" of Marius and Sylla, and to drive the 
" Tories into the arms of the Pretender, 
" and dye the royal ermine with blood?"— 
To notice other examples,, your predecessor, 
Bishop of London, (I mean Dr. Robinson), 
lived to his ninety-third year, and always 
preserved a considerable share of health ; 
and Sir Christopher Wren was in his 
eightieth year when he finished your cathe- 
dral of Saint Paul's. He died at the a^e of 
ninety-one, but not till he had completed 
other great works. Mr. Waller, at the 
age of eighty-two, is said to have lost none 
of his intellectual powers : and the immor- 
tal Newton, the prodigy of our age, who 
began his philosophical career before one* 
and- twenty, and had continued it with inces- 
sant labour for more than half a century, was 



OF OLD AGE. 39 

in his eighty-third year very busy in improv- 
ing his chronology ; and afterwards, averse 
as he had always been to contest and dis- 
pute, yet when he thought the cause of truth 
and the interests of science required it, he 
entered the lists of controversy, and conti- 
nued the literary war to his death, with all 
the warmth and enthusiasm of a young 
disputant. 

Bishop Gibson. But observe, brother, 
that Sir Isaac Newton's was the solitary 
occupation of mere intellect. It did not 
require those resources and that peculiar 
firmness of mind, which the concerns of 
public business demand, and which old age 
does not in general possess. 

Bishop Hough. Take then the example 
of Corsini, the present Pope, Clement the 
Twelfth. He was near four-score when 
he succeeded to the Papal Chair; he has 



40 THE COMFORTS 

now held it for ten years, and has not lost 
any of that popularity, which he at first ac- 
quired, by abolishing several improvident 
taxes, and putting an end to the system of 
oppression, that Cardinal Coscia had esta- 
blished under his predecessor. — Or if acti- 
vity in the field be more decisive, what do 
you say to Marshall Villars ? who, after 
having quitted his military career for many 
years, has lately taken the command of the 
army in Italy, at the age of four-score ; and 
in a short, active, and glorious campaign, 
has driven the imperial army out of the Mi- 
lanese territory, and rescued that country 
from an unexampled severity of oppression. 
I have a respect for a good pun ; and I love 
the pleasantness of this old man, who at the 
siege of Milan, being asked his age, could 
answer,, " Dans peu de Jours, j'aurois 

MlL-AN." 

Mr. Lyttelton. You defend your 



OF OLD AGE. 41 

ground so well, my Lord Bishop, that there 
is a pleasure in seeing you attacked. Allow 
me then to ask, whether in public affairs, 
the art of persuading and convincing others 
is not essential ? and whether the powers of 
a public speake * are not enfeebled by age? 

Bishop Houg: , The voice, Mr. Lyfctel- 
ton, I admit, dc es not retain its stentorian 
powers : but t^ m it acquires a sweetness 
and mellowness, quite as fitted to engage 
the attention and convince the understand- 
ing, as the more boisterous vociferation of 
youth. Such was the eloquence of Nestor, 
whose words, Homer tells us, flowed from 
his mouth like honey ; and such the tones, 
with which Lord Somers (many years after 
he had resigned the seals and quitted public 
life) addressed the House of Commons in 
answer to his malignant accusers, and at 
once confounded and silenced them. 



42 THE COMFORTS 

Bishop Gibson. And yet I cannot but 
think, that the trial which you were put to 
early in life, called for nerves and strength, 
to oppose the threats and artifices of James's 
Commissioners. It required, my dear Bi- 
shop, the vigour of youth, to give your an- 
swer : — " My Lords, I submit as far as is 
" consistent with the laws of the land and 
"the statutes of the college, and no fur- 
" ther ;" or what you added, " I do hereby 

" PROTEST AGAINST ALL YOUR PROCEEDINGS, 

" and against all you have done in preju- 
" dice of me and my right, as illegal, unjust, 
" and null ; and therefore I appeal to my 
" Sovereign Lord the King, in his Courts 
Cf of Justice/' 

Bishop Hough. And why, Brother, 
should I be more timid and more time-ser- 
ving at my present age, than at thirty-six ? 
Is disinterested contempt of life and fortune 
less practicable at the age of ninety, than at 



OF OLD AGE* 43 

an earlier period? or are those who find 
themselves approaching the end of their 
mortal pilgrimage, more likely to sacrifice 
liberty and truth to the extension of a pre- 
carious existence, and for the sake of life to 
surrender all which can give to life any real 
value? How different were the feelings of 
Solon ! who when he opposed with vigour, 
though without success, the tyranny of Pisi- 
stratus, and was asked what had inspired 
him with such undaunted courage, replied, 
" My old age." You and I, Bishop of Lon- 
don, would, I trust, at no period, be dispo- 
sed to make so precious a sacrifice, for the 
prolongation of life : and, however infirm 
my mortal frame may now be, I feel, at the 
present moment, as fitted for the trial I then 
underwent before the Bishop of Chester and 
the two Judges, and as ready to meet the 
danger and abide the event, as at any pre- 
ceding period of my life, 



44 THE COMFORTS 

Mr. Lyttelton. Patriotic feelings like 
these, my dear Lord, are then more likely to 
increase than diminish in advanced life? 

Bishop Hough. So, indeed I should con- 
ceive — Bnt I have still more proof that old 
age is not incapacitated for public life. If 
the peace and prosperity of a country afford 
evidence of the talents of a minister, who 
ever deserved the name of a great States- 
man, better than the present Premier of 
France, in his 88th year? — I mean the ami- 
able, the honest, and the pacific Fleury : 
yet the Cardinal was near seventy-four, 
when he undertook the administration of 
the kingdom of France ; which, in the 
course of little more than fourteen years, he 
has by peaceful measures in a great degree 
restored, exhausted as it was by the profu- 
sion arid ambition of the late monarch and 
his ministers, And, my dear Mr. Lyttel- 
ton, you must pardon me when I observe, 



OF OLD AGE, 45 

that your political opponent, Sir Robert 
Walpole, has very great merit with me in 
that respect. To his co-operation with the 
mild and equitable minister of France, we 
are indebted for a greater extension of 
peace, than we have enjoyed for a long 
time. Our late monarch, indeed, was not ex- 
empt, nor, I fear, is our present sovereign, 
from the infectious desire of military glory. 

Mr. Lyttelton. I must remind you 
then, my Lord, of your warm panegyric on 
King William, and the Duke of Marlbo- 
rough ; and ask whether there was no itch, 
no infectious desire of military glory in 
them ? 

Bishop Hough. There might have been. 
God only knows the heart of man. — But 
there was a cause. The clouds of bigotry 
and despotism threatened misery and havock 
to our quarter of the globe : and those 



46 THE COMFORTS 

heroes were the instruments to which, under 
an over-ruling providence, Europe is chiefly 
indebted for the civil and religious liberty 
which it now enjoys. We have (and I 
grieve to hear it) just declared war against 
Spain, and are rejoicing in the capture of 
Porto Bello; prepared by success for an 
attempt on Carthagena, or for something 
w T hich may end in loss and disgrace. When 
I hear a proposal for declaring war, I figure 
to myself a suspension of commerce, a de- 
cay of manufactures, a scarcity of food, an 
increase of taxes, a state of irritation, uncer- 
tainty and discontent ; and I am persuaded, 
that if warlike sovereigns would frequently 
visit their hospitals, crowded with the dy- 
ing and disabled, and contemplate the 
depopulation and distress which are the 
effects of their itch for glory, that fatal 
disease would be less prevalent and des- 
tructive. 



OF OLD AGE. 47 

Mr, Lyttelton. Do you then, my Lord 
Bishop, approve of the corrupt means, by 
which the present minister has so long pre- 
served his power ? 

Bishop Hough. I say not that. But 
impressed as I have been with all you have 
so ably stated in the House, still I acknow- 
ledge his merits as the preserver of peace : 
they perpetually recur to my mind, and 
create an interest in his favour.— Let me 
however return to my subject. — The period 
in which we have lived, has supplied many 
valuable lessons on the subject of old age. 
Hardly any one has left more impression on 
my mind, than a visit which 1 paid in 1693, 
to our late metropolitan Dr. Sancroft, at 
Fresingfield in Suffolk ; a little farm where 
he was born, and which had been above 
three hundred years in his family. He was 
then approaching to four-score ; I found 
him working in his garden, and taking 



48 THE COMFORTS. 

advantage of a shower of rain which had 
fallen, to transplant some lettuces. I was 
struck with the profusion of his vegetables, 
the beauty and luxuriance of his fruit-trees, 
and the richness and fragrance of his flow- 
ers, and noticed the taste with which he 
had directed every thing. " You must not 
cc compliment too hastily (says he) on the 
u directions which I have given. Almost 
u all you see, is the work of my own hands. 
cc My old woman does the weeding ; and 
cc John mows my turf, and digs for me : 
i$ but all the nicer work, — the sowing, 
" grafting, budding, transplanting, and the 
cc like, I trust to no other hand but my own, 
" so long at least as my health will allow 
"me to enjoy so pleasing an occupation. 
M And in good sooth," added he, " the 
" fruits here taste more sweet, and the flow- 
'• ers have a richer perfume, than they had 
"at Lambetiv' — I looked up to our depri- 
ved metropolitan with more respect, and 



OF OLD AGE. 49 

thought his gardening dress shed more 
splendour over him, than ever his robes and 
lawn sleeves could have done, when he was 
the first subject in this great kingdom. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Was it not perverse, 
however, after boldly petitioning James 
against the dispensing power, and signing 
the declaration to William, to refuse the 
oaths to his new Sovereign, and yet not as* 
sign any reason for his conduct ? 

Bishop Hough. Whenever I behold dis- 
interested sincerity, I bow to it with rever- 
ence, however opinions may differ. Strict 
and severe as to himself, he was kind and 
tender to others ; the friend of the conscien- 
tious dissenter, disposed to concede to the 
scruples of others, he could not induce his 
mind to offer a new oath of allegiance, 
whilst his liege sovereign was still living ; 
not however uncharitable to those, who had 

E 



50 THE COMFORTS 

not the same scruples ; as appears by what 
he said, during his last illness, to one of 
his chaplains who had conformed. " You 
" and I have gone different ways in these 
cc late affairs ; but I trust Heaven's gates 
"are wide enough to receive us both. 
" What I have done, I have done in the in— 
cc tegrity of my heart; indeed in the great 
" integrity of my heart/' 

Bishop Gibson. I think, Brother, that 
Mr. Lyttelton, even if he cannot hold Mr. 
Waller's opinion that age improves the un- 
derstanding, will at least allow, that it does 
not absolutely disqualify for public business. 

Mr. Lyttelton. I do most readily. 
But now, my Lord Bishop, for your second 
objection, that age is attended with infirmity 
of body ; is not that in some degree a part 
of your first ? 



OF OLD AGE. 51 

Bishop Hough. It seems to me to de- 
serve to be considered separately. — In esti- 
mating the infirmity peculiar to age, we should 
remember, that fallen man is subject to 
aches and pains, to sickness and disease, in 
every period of his probationary state ; and 
we must not place to the separate account 
of old age, what is common to every period 
of life. Again, there are some constitutions 
which are naturally infirm ; and moreover, 
in a plurality of instances, those who suffer 
much in old age, are indebted for their suf- 
ferings to the habitual stimulus of vinous or 
ardent spirits, or to some improper indul- 
gence. As to myself, the lesson of temper- 
ance, which our great dramatic poet has put 
in the mouth of the faithful Adam, has not 
been lost on me; 

For in my youth I never did apply 
Hot and rebellious liquors to my blood : 
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, 
Frosty, but kindly. 



52 THE COMFORTS 

You will, I am sure, admit that deduction 
should be made, not only for weakly habits 
of body, for intemperance, and for neglect 
and inattention to bodiW health, but also for 
the indulgence of passions and anxieties, 
as far as the bodily health may be thereby 
affected. This will confine the infirmities of 
age within a much smaller circle, than is 
commonly estimated ; leaving little more 
than what is necessary to wean us from a 
world which, with all our complainings, we 
are apt to love too well ; and to prepare for 
the close of life, in the same manner as the 
weariness, which we feel at the end of a 
cheerful and active day, fits us for quiet and 
calm repose. 

Bishop Gibson. You do not however, my 
dear friend, mean to say that age has no in- 
firmity, except what it derives from collate- 
ral circumstances ? 



OF OLD AGE. 53 

Bishop Hough, I allow it to be perfectly 
true, that age lessens the amount of bodily 
force But if the quantum of happiness de- 
pended on the positive degree of strength, we 
should rather lament that we have not been 
endowed with the animal powers of the bull 
or the elephant ; and the strongest of the 
brute creation would be then more happy and 
enviable, than the best and wisest of rational 
beings. I admit, my dear Mr. Lyttelton, 
that my strength is inferior to yours ; but 
your strength is inferior to that of some 
others ; and greatly inferior to what is pos- 
sessed by those athletic boxers, whose sa- 
vage combats disgrace the present age. No 
one, however, except those who patronise 
them, would prefer the possession of their 
trained and brutal strength, to the endow- 
ments of your cultivated and enlightened 
mind. — Even at my extended age, though 
my strength and activity are abated, yet 
with my bowling green and other occupa- 



54 THE COMFORTS 

tions, I have so kept myself in training ', that 
they are not entirely gone. — In Pliny's 
letters, there is an interesting account of 
his friend Spurinna, and of the methods 
he took to preserve his activity ; arrang- 
ing his life by that uninterrupted regula- 
rity, which seems to be peculiarly fitted 
to old age. Though he was only a boy to 
me, being then in his seventy- eighth year, 1 
have profited by his example. — The first 
part of his morning (Pliny tells us) he devo- 
ted to study. At eight o'clock he dressed, 
and walked about three miles for contempla- 
tion and exercise. Conversation and read- 
ing, with a little indulgence of repose, 
filled up his time till noon ; when he took 
the air in his chariot, with his lady or some 
friend, and used a little more walking exer- 
cise. Between two and three he w r ent to the 
bath ; after which he played some time at 
tennis, and then reposed while a favourite 
author was read to him, till at six o'clock 



OF OLD AGE. 55 

he sat down to an elegant repast, enlivened 
by the recital of a dramatic entertainment, 
and extended by mirth and good humour to 
a late hour. 

Mr. Lyttelton. These, my lord, are Ro- 
man manners : but with a little modifica- 
tion, the example might be fitted to English 
habits and climate. 

Bishop Gibson. There are, however, 
other privations, not indeed exclusively con- 
fined to old age, yet much more frequent in 
advanced life ; such, for example, as the loss 
of sight, which Milton has so feelingly and 
pathetically described. 

Bishop Hough. And yet, my dear friend, 
is it not more than probable, that we are 
indebted to it for much of the beauty, melody, 
and variety of his immortal work, the Para- 
dise Lost? in which, rejecting the delusions 



56 THE COMFORTS 

of vision, he has referred the examination of 
his numbers to his ear. How far these pri- 
vations are, in most cases, compensated by 
a merciful Providence, we have, in some in- 
stances, opportunities of judging, Milton 
himself seems to have had experience of this 
mercy, when he added to his poetical com- 
plaint those beautiful lines : 

Yet not the more 



Cease I to wander, where the Muses haunt, 
Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, 

Smit with the love of sacred song. 

Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 
Harmonious numbers. 

Mr. Lyttelton. The name of Milton 
naturally leads the mind to the Father of 
Epic Poetry. Does it not appear probable, 
my good Lord, that to this circumstance of 
blindness, we are indebted for the rich and 
luxuriant flow of the lines of Homer, surpas- 
sing not only every thing of his own period, 



OF OLD AGE> 57 

but of every other age ? If the Grecian Poet 
had been accustomed to scan, and measure 
and examine his verses by his eye, as the 
predominant sense, should we have inherited 
those poetical examples, which the world 
has ever since imitated, but will never equal? 
I am, however, aware that there was ano- 
ther circumstance, which gave Homer, in 
common with the ancients, a great advant- 
age over modern Poetasters : 1 mean the 
practice of frequently repeating their compo- 
sitions in public, and thereby correcting and 
refining them to the utmost practicable ex- 
tent. The trial of the effect on the public 
ear, the detection of flatness or hardness in 
the composition, and the improvement of the 
flow of the numbers and the harmony of the 
style by repeated and public examination, 
will account for the high degree of polish 
and perfection, to which some of their works 
attained. Hardly any one who has not made 
the trial, can appreciate the disadvantages 



58 THE COMFORTS 

of writing Poetry in the closet, modulating it 
by the eye. It is true, the ear is also refer- 
red to: but the discriminating faculty has 
already been pre-occupied by the sight; 
which of all the senses, as Horace justly ob- 
serves, makes the most powerful impression 
on the mind. 

Bishop Hough. I proceed now to consi- 
der the third inconvenience of age, the dimi- 
nution of animal enjoyment. — Upon this I 
have to observe, that different pleasures are 
adapted to different periods of life ; so that 
as one desire diminishes, another increases. 
We do not therefore lose, but only vary the 
objects of attachment ; exchanging the tur- 
bulent and tyrannic passions of youth, for 
the milder and more sedate affections of age. 
If increase of years~be a check to intemper- 
ance, it is also a preservative against its 
unhappy effects. It does not exclude con- 
viviality ; but leaves us the delight of social 



OF OLD AGE. 59 

intercourse, while it improves the pleasures 
of conversation, and diminishes the cravings 
of appetite. Indeed there is hardly any 
thing so dangerous, as an inordinate love of 
pleasure ; nor any crime, public or private, 
which men abandoned to the lawless and 
unbridled indulgence of appetite, will not 
commit. — When those, who place their en- 
joyments merely in the gratification of the 
senses, describe one of their dinner parties, 
their account of it refers to the turtle, veni- 
son, and burgundy, which made the entirety 
of the entertainment : but if three or four 
intellectual persons by chance mix with the 
society, the narrative is changed ; and the 
dullest eater and drinker of them all will cry 
out, — ■" what an agreeable party ! what wit, 
" what pleasantry, what information !" — 
Who that has noticed this, will question 
the superiority of intellectual over sensual 
pleasure, or pity us old men, who can en- 
joy all this, the most desirable part of a 



60 THE COMFORTS 

social entertainment, bettert han at five-aad- 
twentv? 

Bishop Gibson. Do you then mean to 
infer, Brother, that the whole of our course 
through life is a progress from sensual to in-; 
tellectual enjoyment? 

Bishop Hough, I do.— The new-born! 
infant is a mere sensualist. Softness to the 
touch, sweetness to the taste, fragrance to 
the smell, brilliancy to the eye, and pleasing 
sounds to delight the ear, constitute the sum , 
and substance of his existence. He is com- 
posed entirely of sensual appetites ; and 
when they are satiated, sinks into repose. 
But every ray of intellectual light that is. 
admitted into the mind, by instruction, ex- 
perience, example, and by the kindness of 
friends, tends to convert the animal into a, 
rational being ; supplying mental pleasures 
in the place of those which are merely coj- 



OF OLD AGE. 61 

poreal, and the direction of reason for that of 
instinct.— As the heir of immortality advan- 
ces in the period of existence, a series of 
xnixt enjoyment follows in succession , until 
what is called the entrance of life ; when 
the sexual attraction, the desire of pre-emi- 
nence, and the dreams of ambition, supply 
new objects ; which, though not purely in^ 
tellectual, are not so grossly sensual as those 
which occupy the very vestibule of exis- 
tence. As life passes on, there is an increas- 
ing prevalence of intellect ; and the soul is 
gradually prepared for the glory, to which it 
is destined. To complain, therefore, of the 
diminution of sensual gratifications as our 
intellectual enjoyments increase, seems to 
me neither just nor reasonable. 

Mr. Lyttelton. In your account of the 
progress of intellect, your Lordship has only 
slightly alluded to the sexual Passion ; but 
does it not afford an apt exemplification of 



62 THE COMFORTS 

the progress of the mind, and of its power to 
convert an appetite of a sensual nature into 
an intellectual pleasure ? 

Bishop Hough. Where the Powers of 
the Mind and the intellectual habits have 
been duly cultivated, connubial love will 
gradually refine and become intellectual ; 
and be more and more assimilated to that 
spiritual enjoyment, which will form a por- 
tion of the felicity of the pious in a future 
state. It is thus that mutual confidence and 
esteem, — complacency, forbearance, intel- 
lectual improvement, and benevolent occu- 
pation, become increasing sources of recipro- 
cal tenderness, and of pure and undivided 
affection ; so as to produce that vital union 
of soul, of w r hich the sensualist can have no 
moreconception,than of the heaven for which 
it is a preparation. 

Mr. Lyttelton* What elevated ideas 7 



OF OLD AGE* 63 

does this convey of the wedded state ? — Not 
sensual and fleeting, but intellectual and un- 
failing. Health may decline and beauty 
may decay ; but rectitude of mind and pu- 
rity of heart will for ever improve, until they 
become fitted for those regions where divine 
love is all in all. — Attachment founded on 
esteem, and affections fixed on intellectual 
endowments and on the virtues of the soul, 
when directed to one beloved object, must in 
their nature be spiritual and eternal. 

Bishop Gibson, According to the ar- 
rangement of your subject, Bishop of Wor- 
cester, there now remains for consideration 
the fourth inconvenience of age : — u Anxiety 
on account of the approach of death ." Let 
us, I pray you, have your sentiments on that 
subject. 

Bishop Hough. Uncertainty as to life, 
is not peculiar to old age. The young and 



64 THE COMFORTS 

the active are even more liable to fatal acci- 
dents and violent diseases, than the aged ; 
and if the postponement of death be an ad- 
vantage, age has already obtained it ; whilst 
to youth it must be a matter of uncertainty, 
when not more than one in five attains the 
age of fifty. But who that looks to his well- 
being — who that feels the strugglings of im- 
mortality in this mortal body, would desire 
an extraordinary length of probationary exis- 
tence? Considerations common to the 
heathen world, and suggested by a general 
view r of human nature, would repress such a 
wish. Those, however, which are derived 
from Revelation, are of infinitely greater 
weight In a fallen world, where sin and 
misery are the consequences of a lapse from 
a state of bliss and innocence, no wise man 
would desire to extend the period of proba- 
tion further than its appointed limit, when 
he may be mature for happiness and immor- 
tality. For, when the circulation of the 



OF OLD AGE. 65 

blood ceases, and the vital heat is no longer 
conveyed through this mortal frame, the 
soul is emancipated from its earthly taber- 
nacle, and with renovated joy and vigour, 
commences its course of intellectual and 
immortal existence* And if medical men 
maybe relied on, the suspension of that vital 
heat and of the current of the blood by which 
it is conveyed, and the immediate approach 
of death, produce a sensation similar to that 
of falling asleep. — I do not however, refer 
to a premature and violent death, which is 
generally attended with pain ; but merely to 
the cessation of that vital heat, which 
breathed into created man, made him a 
living soul ; and which by the blood, not 
only communicates its power to every part 
of the living creature, but gives out warmth 
even to the bodies around it. 

Mr. LVttelton. It is said, my Lord, 
that the heat of the blood is of the same tern- 

F 



66 THE COMFORTS 

perature, in youth and in age, amid the 
snows of Siberia and in the burning sands of 
Africa; and that while by wool, fur, fea- 
thers, and other non-conductors, this ani- 
mal heat can be prevented from escaping, 
the living creature will bear almost any se- 
verity of climate. 

Bishop Hough. So I have read. — But 
let me caution you, that when I speak of the 
final cessation of animal heat being a mere 
sinking into repose , I am not talking of the 
parting hour of the criminal and the vicious. 
To meet death with ease and tranquillity, is 
the exclusive privilege of piety and virtue. 
At the same time, frequent meditation on 
our removal from this material world is ne 
cessary for those who desire that the terror* 
of death should be soothed, and its pangs 
alleviated. I have long meditated on the 
subject ; and indeed to neglect it at my ad- 
vanced period, would be to sleep on my po^ 



OF OLD AGE. 67 

at the moment of attack,— Bat here again , 
age has its advantages : and I must observe, 
as to the actual pain of death to the aged, 
that in a state of maturity the fruit drops 
spontaneously from the tree ; and the sepa- 
ration of the immortal soul from the mortal 
body, is of course less painful than in early 
life. How different was the death of the 
1 youthful Lord Russel, which I witnessed in 

I* 1683 !— * The forlorn age of his father, — the 
widowed state of his dear Ladv Russel — the 
orphan condition of his children, — the ille- 
gality of his sentence, — the dark clouds 
which overhung his country, — and the cru- 
elty of Charles and James, — did so combine 

%to embitter his removal from this world, 
that it required all his Christian fortitude 

^ind patience, and all the support which he 

•derived from his earnest prayers, to bear the 
rying scene with decent composure. — Not 
hat even in youth, death is always arrayed 

;|vith terrors : our excellent Sovereign , 



68 THE COMFORTS 

Queen Mary, in the prime of life, met her 
approaching end with calmness and tran- 
quillity ; thus expressing herself, " I thank 
u God, I have always carried this in my 
" mind that nothing is to be left till the last 
" hour. I have now only to look up to God, 
u and to submit to his will." 

Bishop Gibson, The parting hour of our 
late Royal Mistress, Queen Caroline, was 
not less affecting and impressive. She clo- 
sed her life w r ith admirable and exemplary 
devotion ; maintaining to her last moment, 
christian fortitude and serenity of mind " I 
" have made it," said she, u the object of 
" my life to discharge my religious and so- 
" cial duties ; and hope that God will par- 
cc don my infirmities, and accept the since- 
" rity of my endeavours to promote the 
" King's honour and the prosperity of the 
" nation," The prayer which she repeated 
on the immediate approach of death, was 



OF OLD AGE. 69 

her own composition, and truly devout and 
pathetic. When she had concluded it, she 
desired those around her to join in repeating 
the Lord's Prayer, so load that she might 
hear them ; and waving her hand as it con- 
cluded, she silently expired. 

Bishop Hough. The dread of the unknown 
w f orld to which we are approaching, is like the 
fear of a child going into a dark room ; and 
we only blame the child, when he knows the 
place well, and yet fears the darkness in 
which it is for the time involved. — The hea- 
thens knew not the place to which they were 
going : they had no Revelation as to a future 
state, and were therefore terrified. To us it 
is revealed ; and we know, and are sure, 
that the world we are leaving, and that to 
which we are approaching, are under the 
same government and protection of the same 
omnipotent and benevolent power, — with 
this only difference, that sin and misery, the 
consequence .of the disobedience of Adam, 



70 THE COMFORTS 

are in the present world, more or less, the 
lot of all his descendants ; but in a future 
state will affect none but the reprobate and 
disobedient. 

Mr. Lyttelton. I have heard, my 
Lord Bishop, some old men complain of 
want of respect Has that been considered 
by your Lordship, or do you not estimate it 
among the inconveniences of advanced life ? 

Bishop Hough. I do not so estimate it. 
The evil lies in man, not in the period of life. 
The cheerful and obliging, however aged, 
will always receive respect and attention i 
while the fretful and querulous, the morose 
and gloomy, the sordid and avaricious, will 
not find either respect or attention at any 
period of life. I was, indeed, prepared to 
mention the deference paid to age, among 
its advantages : aad in good sooth I consi- 
der it as a balance for some of the pleasures 
of youth. If peevishness or avarice discover 



OF OLD AGE. 71 

themselves in the wane of life, they are the 
defects of temper not of age. He who 
would be happy must guard against them 
at all times. 

Bishop Gibson. But why, Bishop of 
Worcester, not put sufferings by loss of 
Friends, among the inconveniences of age ? 

Bishop Hough. Because it is not pecu- 
liar to old age, but common to every period 
of life : and in fact it is not so painful to the 
aged, for two causes ; — our feelings are less 
acute ; and the restoration to those we love, 
is prospectively less distant, as we approach 
the grave. Little, indeed, did I think, at 
the time of the death of my beloved com- 
panion, that I should have survived her loss 
for near twenty years. I then had comfor- 
ted myself with the expectation of an earlier 
re-union : — it cannot, however, be now very 
distant. 



72 THE COMFORTS 

Mr. Lyttelton. Indeed, my Lord, I 
cannot conceive a greater loss, than that to 
which you so feelingly refer. 

Bishop Hough. You did not know her, 
ray young friend. Let me, therefore, in- 
dulge myself in a few words to her memory. 
— Long — long may it be, before you expe- 
rience the interest which I now feel, in bear- 
ing witness to the virtues of a departed wife. 
— Endowed with a pleasing and engaging 
aspect, " she bore a mind which envy could 
u not but call fair." Diffident and reserved 
in mixt society, her intellectual powers were 
best appreciated in the recesses of private 
life. Warm and affectionate in her attach- 
ments, placable and forgiving when injur- 
ed, and extending her charity with unspar- 
ing hand to the deserving and distressed, her 
life was such a continued preparation for 
eternity, that the unexpected event, which 
we all so painfully felt, might to her be 



OF OLD AGE. 73 

deemed a blessing. I say unexpected, for 
she was apparently well ; and, on Whit- 
sunday morning, was preparing for that at- 
tendance on church, which was never 
omitted, when she suddenly expired. Her 
health and spirits, though naturally good, 
had been gradually undermined by a long, 
an anxious, and assiduous attendance on a 
near and dear relative ; and her illness had 
been accompanied by severe sufferings, as 
appeared by several of her manuscript pray- 
ers, which came into my hands after her 
decease.- — I know it rnay appear selfish to 
praise, where the object might be deemed 
a part of oneself. But why should I not de- 
clare her virtues ? The light which they will 
shed, may guide many of my fellow Christi- 
ans to eternal happiness, 

Mr, Lyttslton.. Such praise, Lord 
Bishop, requires no apology. When all the 
habits and affections are centered in one 



74 THE COMFORTS 

beloved object, the breaking of the bond 
of union must be like the separation of the 
soul and body, — the annihilation of all 
earthly comfort. 

Bishop Gibson. Mr. Lyttelton is musing, 
Brother, on the dear object of his choice ; 
shall we recal him from his reverie, by pro- 
ceeding in your subject ? 

Bishop Hough. If we have losses, we 
should recollect the possessions we retain, 
and the additions we are daily making to 
them, — of children, grand-children, ne- 
phews, nieces, relatives, connexions, — ad- 
vancing in life, displaying the good effects of 
the instruction and assistance which we have 
given them, and supplying new friends to 
fill up the broken ranks, and to produce 
fresh objects of kindness and affection. I 
mean not, however, to preach stoical apa- 
thy, on the death of those who are dear to 



OF OLD AGE. 75 

us. Time must pass, and grief must be 
soothed by a limited indulgence, before the 
heart is ready to receive even the balm of 
consolation. But an even temper, which 
does not impatiently struggle under adver- 
sity, will eventually overcome ; slowly in- 
deed and by degrees, but with more assured 
and complete victory. For 5 where we hum- 
bly submit to affliction, and at the same time 
use all proper endeavours to lighten its 
weight, our heavenly father will send his 
blessed spirit to influence and support us 
and to enable us to apply our afflictions for 
the furtherance of our present and future* 
happiness. 

Bishop Gibson. I am perfectly aw$re, 
that it is by trials endured and duties fulfil- 
led, that we become fitted for the angelic 
state ; and have often traced in my own his- 
tory, and in that of my nearest and dearest 
friends, that events, painful and distressing 



76 THE COMFORTS 

at the time, have in fact been blessings in 
disguise, and have proved beneficial in their 
consequences. 

Bishop Hough. True, Bishop of London ! 
— And who would wish to remain in a state 
of blindnes and security, thoughtless of his 
latter end, until the awful hour overtook him 
in which he must appear before the throne 
of God, to render his final account? How 
many parents have been recalled from the 
gross idolatry of a favourite child, by the re- 
moval of the object of that idolatry? How 
often, when prosperity has filled the heart 
and made it hard, do these light and tempo- 
rary afflictions soften it, recall us from the 
vain illusions of the world, and prepare us 
for the hour of death? The heathen philoso- ! 
phers boasted of the power of alleviating 
mental afflictions, as if it had been in their 
own disposal ; but they could not bestow on 
their votaries, what human nature has not to 



OF OLD AGE. 77 

bestow, The great author of our being has 
reserved it, to be given to those only, who 
seek it worthily by prayer and supplication. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Let me in this pause 
of your subject, again confess myself to you, 
my Lord Bishop. It sometimes happens 
that I omit the duty of prayer, conceiving 
my mind to be unfitted for an act so solemn 
and sacred : for, if I feel no warmth of gra- 
tude and affection, and derive no pleasure 
*rom it, I fear my homage will not be accept- 
able, and I do not presume to offer it at a 
time so little adapted to worthy service. 

Bishop Hough. All our service is un- 
worthy. But we should ever bear in mind, 
that regular prayer is a duty enjoined ; and 
though worldly occupation or bodily indis- 
position may sometimes occasion wandering 
thoughts, yet God will ever listen to the 
desires of a heart humbly devoted to him. 



78 THE COMFORTS 

Bishop Gibson. By a similar misconcep- 
tion, some well-intentioned Christians have 
been kept from the holy sacrament : not 
considering that, although none of us are 
worthy of being admitted to his table, yet ave 
are all commanded to come. I have some- 
times met with serious and well disposed 
persons, who because they did not always 
feel the same pious disposition, have feared 
that God had at times withdrawn himself 
from them, and that they were become un- 
worthy of his grace. I have endeavoured 
to pour balm into such broken and contrite 
spirits, by this consoling truth ; that, when 

we are so humbled by the sense of our own 

%j 

guilt as to dread being cast off for ever, God 
is most watchful over us, and most compas- 
sionate towards us. There is indeed no 
trial so afflicting to a pious and virtuous 
mind, as this state of spiritual darkness — 
this sense of guilt, and earnest longing for 
mercy and pardon from the Supreme Being. 



OF OLD AGE. 79 

This seems to have been the great trial of 
our blessed Saviour, when he was wound- 
ed for our iniquities. — God withdrew him- 
self from him ; deprived him of the inward 
support and consolation of his divine pre- 
sence, and abandoned him on the cross to 
all the sufferings of his human nature. Je- 
sus endured the sense of his heavenly 
Father's displeasure ; and his soul was sor- 
rowful and dismayed, when he cried out, 
" My God my God, why hast thou forsa- 
" ken me ?" He has himself experienced 
this slate of agony ; and his mercy and pity 
will be ever ready to make intercession for 
those who are truly sorry for their sins. 

Bishop Hough. Allow me, in the full- 
ness of my heart, here to express my feel- 
ings on this affecting subject. — What prai- 
ses, what debt of gratitude, indeed do I not 
owe to our heavenly Father, for countless 
mercies during stn extended life, and for that 



80 THE COMFORTS 

greatest of all mercies that he has not hid 
his face from me ? The votaries of sensual 
indulgence have sought out many inven- 
tions, — vain and corroding pleasures, — bro- i 
ken cisterns that hold no water ; and though 
again and again deceived they still recur to 
the same delusion. Did they but once 
practically know, from whence is derived 
all happiness, earthly and celestial, human 
and divine, they would feel that to the Fa- 
ther of Mercies alone, their prayers, their 
desires, their devout aspirations should be 
directed. He is the fountain and source of 
all happiness ; and, when he condescends 
to visit the penitent and humble supplicant 
and to speak comfort to his soul, all the 
pettyinconveniences of sickness, penury, and 
misfortune, vanish in a moment : for in his 
presence is fulness of joy, and at his right 
hand there is pleasure for evermore. 

Mr. Lyttelton. I thank both your Lord. 



OF OLD AGE. 81 

Lordships for the satisfaction I receive, — 
But hitherto, Lord Bishop of Worcester, 
you have been acting only on the defensive, 
and obviating objections. — What say you to 
carrying the war into the enemy's country? 
I look with interest and expectation, to your 
account of the positive comforts of old age. 

Bishop Hough. I thought it right, Mr. 
Lyttelton, to clear my ground and remove 
obstructions, before I began my edifice. — 
Enough has been said of theinconveniences of 
old age ; let us now consider its advantages. 
— Here, however, I fear it will be neces- 
sary for me to play the Egotist ; and to 
enter into the detail of my own life, and the 
disposition and arrangement of my time. 

Bishop Gibson. This is the very thing, 
Brother, we both wish ; my young friend 
that he may prepare against a distant pe- 

G 



82 THE COMFORTS 

riod, and myself that I may now follow your 
precepts. 

Bishop Hough. By the mercy of God, I 
can still say that I am never sick ; nor do I 
feel any acute pain at the advanced age of 
ninety. I still live in greater ease, than I 
durst have hoped ; but to me, every day is 
now become a portion of life. Indeed, I lit- 
tle thought of living to the age I am now 
arrived at. — Health is the root of all our 
innocent enjoyments in this world. To the 
attainment of health, we shall find temper- 
ance, exercise, and regularity of habit to be 
all essentially necessary. For the portion of 
that health which I enjoy, I am in some de- 
gree indebted to my profession ; which ex- 
cludes every idea of dissipation and intem- 
perance, and requires a regular and orderly 
course of life. From the episcopal order to 
the clergy, and from the clergy to the peo- 



OP OLD AGE. 83 

pie at large, it is most essential that the ex- 
amples of Christian virtue and decorum 
should be transmitted, as from a pure and 
uncorrupted source ; and that we should not 
only be exempt from vice, but a shining ex- 
ample to others. The inscription for the 
Roman Senate, is more peculiarly appli- 
cable to the English clergy : Is ordo vitio 

CARETO CETERIS SPECIMEN ESTO. But 

though temperance and exercise, and regu- 
larity of habit, be necessary to the preserva- 
tion of health, yet they are weak and impo- 
tent agents, if the mind itself be agitated. 
When Cornaro, celebrated for temperance 
and longevity, sought in the prime of life the 
restoration of health, his first object, as he 
tells us in the account he has given of him- 
self, was the regulation of his temper, and 
the cultivation of cheerful habits ; and to this 
he appears to have been as much indebted 
for an extended and happy life, as to his 
daily practice of temperance. My late 



8*4 THE COMFORTS 

friend, Sir John Floyer, who preserved his 
health and spirits to the advanced age of 
ninety, spent some weeks with me at Har- 
tlebury two or three years before his death. 
My neighbours were all surprised to see a 
man of that age, with his memory, under- j 
standing, and faculties perfect ; and appear- 
ing to labour under no infirmity. He was, 
Mr. Lyttelton, the old gentleman of the par- 
ty : I was then only fourscore. In compli- 
ance with the wishes of us young folks, he 
communicated his secret, — his Receipt for 
preparing the Elixir Vit^e; and informed 
us that by attention and habit, he had ob- 
tained so great a command over his temper, 
as never to be moved with any thing that he 
could not hope to remedy ; and by this, and 
a constant disposition to enter into the inno- 
cent amusements and enjoyments of others, 
he had extended his life to that period, in 
peace and comfort. 



OF OLD AGE. 85 

Mr. Lyttelton Sir John Floyer was 
before my time : but I have heard my father 
describe him, as a man of the most amiable 
disposition. 

Bishop Hough. He was extremely ami- 
able. But indeed, Mr. Lyttelton, compla- 
cency and social habits are characteristics 
of the true Christian Nothing j romotes 
cheerfulness and suavity of manners, more 
than the study of the Gospel : and as it is 
pleasing to see the fire of youth tempered 
by the gravity of age, so it is gratifying to 
observe the phlegm of age enlivened with the 
vivacity of youth. When, therefore, I am 
in company with the young, I endeavour, as 
far as my station and time of life will permit, 
to assimilate my manners to theirs : and I 
find two good effects from it ; one, that they 
listen with much more pleasure and atten- 
tion, to any advice I may see occasion to of- 
fer; the other, that I prevent, what is far 



88 THE COMFORTS 

more odious than any wrinkles of the body, 
— those wrinkles of the mind (as Montaigne 
terms them) which are so destructive of the 
virtues of the heart, and of the intellectua 
features. — Why should sourness and pee- 
vishness of temper have anything to do with 
old age ? They are the vices of the narrow 
and selfish. The liberal and benevolent, 
like rich and generous wines, improve with 
keeping. What will turn acid in so short a 
life as ours, must owe its sourness to po- 
verty of spirit and meanness of character. 
Nobler dispositions soften and meliorate, 
and become more and more kind and disin- 
terested, with length of years ; acquiring a 
smoothness, a milkiness, and sweetness of 
character, commensurate to their period of 
existence, and preparatory to that intellec- 
tual state which they are shortly to enjoy. 
The handsomest and most elegant compli- 
ment, which is to be found in the father of 
epic poetry, comes from the aged councel- 



OF OLD AGE. 87 

lors of Priam ; who, on the sight of Helen, 
exclaim, " We cannot object to suffer so 
" long the calamites of war, for a woman so 
e * like the immortals in beauty." Where is 
the young Beau, who could have expressed 
himself with more chivalrous gallantry? — 
But in order to preserve this pleasantness of 
disposition, a regular habit of self-exami- 
nation is necessary ; so that we may relieve 
and disincumber the mind of all selfish and 
irritable feelings ; and cherish by daily ha- 
bit, gentle and conciliating manners, for- 
bearance to our equals, kindness to depen- 
dants, attention to the poor, and all the other 
dearest charities of life. — I am therefore in 
practice a Pythagorean ; and before my lee- 
tular devotions at night, I strictly examine 
my conduct during the day ; and if I have 
been peevish or perverse, or have done 
amiss, consider how I may make amends 
the next morning. If, however, my con- 
science does not accuse me of any act or 



88 THE COMFORTS 

omission on my part, I sink immediately 
into quiet sleep, almost as 1 lay my head on 
the pillow ; being able to say with the poet; 



-Rectiushoc est; 



Hoc faciens vivam melius, sic dulcis Amicis 
Occurram. 

Bishop Gibson. Self-examination, my 
good friend, may do much towards preser- 
ving us from what is evil, and something in 
directing us to what is good : but to pro- 
duce habitual cheerfulness, will not more 
be necessary, than merely to ascertain and 
correct our course through life ? 

Bishop Hough. Certainly ; and I am 
preparing to state what those means are. 
Indeed I hold it absolutely necessary, that 
from various sources which I shall enume- 
rate, pleasant and amusing thoughts should 
be stored up and domesticated in the mind ; 
not only as an antidote against serious evils, 



OF OLD AGE. 89 

but as a medicine for those little vexations 
and untoward incidents, which sometimes 
will discompose the firmest mind. 

Bishop Gibson. Such, I suppose, as 
that which befel your barometer. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Allow me to ask 
what was that accident, my Lord. 

Bishop Gibson. Why nothing in the 
world, but that a young clerical visitor con- 
trived by excess of awkwardness, to throw 
down and break my Brother's favourite ba- 
rometer : but he was immediately relieved 
by the Bishop saying with a smile, " Well ! 
" I never saw the quicksilver so low before." 

Bishop Hough. If you will not accuse 
me of Egotism, I will mention a circum- 
stance that has very lately occurred, A 
country neighbour and his dame dined with 



90 THE COMFORTS 

me on new-year's -day. She was in the 
family-way, and during dinner was much 
indisposed ; they both went home as soon 
as they could after dinner. The next morn- 
ing the husband came and informed me of 
the cause of her indisposition ; — that shehad 
longed for my silver tureen, and was in con- 
siderable danger. I was anxious that my 
tureen should not be the cause of endanger- 
ing her life, or become a model for the 
shape of her child ; and immediately sent it 
her. In due time she produced a chopping 
boy, and last week when I offered my con- 
gratulations on her recovery, I informed her 
that now in my turn I longed for the tureen, 
which I begged she would send by the 
bearer: and that I would always have it 
ready to send her again, in case of any fu- 
ture longing. 

Bishop Gibson. So, Brother, you saved 
both the tureen and the ehild. 



OF OLD AGE. 91 

Bishop Hough. Well ! and was it not 
well managed?— This, however, suggests 
another topic of consideration. In order to 
preserve serenity and cheerfulness of mind^ 
we should be very careful to guard against 
vain and fruitless desires, which vex and 
agitate the mind, and give it a restless and 
unsettled disposition. Our real happiness 
does not so much depend on the nature and 
extent of our possessions,, as on our being 
satisfied with what we possess ; and our ob- 
taining that self-command, which will en- 
able us to limit our wishes to what may be 
attainable. This is a matter of great impor- 
tance to our peace and tranquillity. At the 
same time I must not omit adding, that it is 
not enough to put on habits of cheerfulness 
in our social meetings : we should be cheer- 
ful, not merely when our friends are about 
us, but when we are alone and in our clo- 
set ; we should exclude every thing that 
presumes to disturb our serenity of mind, 



92 THE COMFORTS 

and entertain only such thoughts, as bring 
comfort and pleasantness along with them. 

Mr. Lyttelton. But how, my dear Lord, 
are we to do this? Can we always repel 
anxious and afflicting thoughts from the 
mind? or, when deeply injured and exaspe- 
rated, or cruelly wounded by the faults or 
follies of others, can we always preserve a 
stoical apathy, and remain entirely unmoved ? 

Bishop Hough It may appear difficult 
to those, who have never tried what may be 
done by patience and perseverance. The 
faults and follies of others may for the mo- 
ment awaken a painful sensation : but we 
are very seldom really injured, except by our 
own. Can we imagine that he, whose yoke 
is easy and whose burthen light — he, who 
knew the heart of man and needed not that 
any one should tell him, — would have com- 
manded us not to be of an anxious mind^ if 



OF OLD AGE, £3 

the degree of anxiety had been entirely out 
of our power? The command implies a pro- 
mise, that whenever our endeavours to obey 
his precept are sincere, earnest, and conti- 
nued, his grace shall be sufficient for us. 
Can we conceive that he, who could say to 
the wind and the sea, " peace, be still/' 
cannot also give tranquillity to the agitated 
mind ? or is it a lesser miracle, that an un- 
believing and abandoned sinner should be 
converted from the error of his way, than 
that a sincere Christian should be enabled 
to regulate his passions and affections ? Or 
shall we suppose that the divine grace will 
not be equally extended in either instance ? 
God said to Abraham, " Walk thou before 
me, and be perfect." The presence of our 
creator will always calm the mind — will 
give peace to the soul during the trials of 
the day, and tranquil rest to the body at 
night 



94 THE COMFORTS 

Bishop Gibson. But do you mean to say 
that all persons are able, with our present 
premier Sir Robert, to cast off their cares 
with their clothes, as he is said to do ? 

Bishop Hough Certainly I mean to con- 
tend that they should always attempt it; at 
least, if they have any taste for the enjoyment 
of calm, refreshing, and invigorating sleep, 
Natural tempers may differ, as well as natu- 
ral strength of mind, or natural health of 
body: while, therefore, we strive to im- 
prove our intellectual powers and bodily 
health, let us address our prayers to God, 
that he would vouchsafe to calm and miti- 
gate that temper, upon the tone of which 
the exertion of those powers, and the enjoy- 
ment of that health, must in a great mea- 
sure depend. 



Bishop Gibson. These considerations, 

Bishop of Worcester, may apply to the 






OF OLD AGE. 95 

petty incidents of domestic life. But, even 
if we can guard our minds as to private ca- 
lamities, how can we hope to exempt our- 
selves from other causes of uneasiness ? The 
state of public affairs, for example, since the 
late Queen's death, — the ambition of Prin- 
ces, — the hostile dispositions of foreign 
courts, — the violence of contending parties 
at home,— are not these subjects of alarm, 
Brother? and can we pretend to keep the 
mind entirely calm and composed, amid 
such a hurricane around us ? 

Bishop Hough. In a free country lilce 
England, the energy of national character, 
and the union of those tuho do not conta- 
minate themselves by party politics, will al~ 
ways augment their power and exertions, 
in proportion as the exigencies of the com- 
munity require it. Impressed with this 
idea, I view with composure, things that 
may be alarming to others. The perso- 



96 THE COMFORTS 

rial character of those who govern their 
petty jealousies and contests, their pro- 
bable apostacies and contradictions, and 
the possible consequences of the future 
transformations of these ephemeral poli- 
ticians, are of little moment to me, while I 
look back with devout gratitude on the 
events of the last fifty years. Preserved 
from civil and ecclesiastical tyranny, I ac- 
knowledge A RULING PROVIDENCE IN THE 

history of Britain : and I confide in the 
continuance of that providential protection, 
so long as my country is not wholly unwor- 
thy to hold its place upon this ball of earth. 
In an age of dissipation and profligacy, I 
feel that much good has been done by indi- 
viduals among us. We have preserved the 
knowledge of divine truth ; w r e have spread 
it among our own poor ; and we have diffu- 
sed it with active and well directed zeal 
over every peopled region of this habitable 
globe. I look up, therefore, to the God of 



OF OLD AGE. 97 

mercy ; and though I put not my trust in 
princes , or in the sons of men, yet while fif* 
ty righteous are to be found in this country, 
I have hope that we shall not be left, like 
Sodom and Gomorrah, a monument of divine 
justice. 

Bishop Gibson. How say you then, Bro- 
ther, when the Church is in danger 1 — When 
the cause of anxiety refers not merely to 
temporal and perishable concerns, but to 
the interests of our pure and reformed reli* 
gion as bylaw established, are we to remain 
calm and composed, and is not neutrality at 
such a moment culpable? For example, the 
sectaries of the present day, tempted by 
pride and the desire of power, are busied in 
suggesting doubts and difficulties, hostile to 
the Establishment, and destructive of Chris- 
tian unity and charity. 

Bishop Hough. Let me not be supposed 

H 



98 THE GOMFOBTS 

to approve of a factious opposition, tending 
to create schism and division in the church, 
and to mislead the pious and humble Chris- 
tian. At the same time, let me say that my 
apprehension is about the progress of infi- j 
delity. What I most dread is a relapse 
into that indifference about religion itself, 
against which you have so solemnly warned 
us in your excellent Pastoral Letters. My 
paroxysms of anxiety, however, have been 
slight and momentary ; for I have an entire 
and unshaken reliance in him, who, speak- 
ing of pure Christianity, has assured us that 
ic the gates of hell shall never prevail 
" against it/' I see with very great satisfac- 
tion, that eminent men among the dissen- 
ters are uniting with our own learned and 
pious divines, in defence of revealed reli- 
gion. This union in a common cause gives 
me the more pleasure, because serious 
Christians, in proportion as they know more 
of each other, will love one another more. 



OF OLD AGE. 99 

The Champion of our Church, Dr. Chilling- 
worth, has well observed that the bible 

ONLY IS THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. — - 

While this remains our common standard of 
orthodoxy — our Christian bond of union, we 
may regard lesser things without anxiety. 
No hostility should ever exist among those 
disciples of Christ, who strive to make their 
lives and doctrines conformable to his pre- 
cepts and example. Hearts may agree, 
though heads differ : there may be unity of 
spirit, if not of opinion ; and it is always an 
advantage, to entertain a favourable opinion 
of those, who differ from us in religious sen- 
timents. It tends to nourish Christian 
charity. For my own part, I welcome with 
cordial and entire satisfaction, every thing 
which tends to approximate one denomina- 
tion of Christians to another; being persua- 
ded that he, who is a conscientious believer 
in Christ, cannot be a bad man. What- 
ever therefore contributes to unite us all in 



100 THE COMFORTS 

kindness and brotherly love, — to smooth as- 
perities, to remove difficulties, and to recon- 
cile discordancy of sentiment, — is to me 
soothing and delightful ; as it brings all the 
sincere and faithful disciples of Christ into 
one fold, under one shepherd : and thereby 
anticipates his glorious reign upon earth. 

Bishop Gibson. But, Brother, let us be 
very careful, lest, while we avoid indiffer- 
ence as to religion, we fall into indifference 
as to doctrine ; and under the specious 
names of candour and liberality, nourish ha- 
bits of complacency for the errors and here- 
sies of others. 

Bishop Hough. Error, my dear Friend, 
should not be confounded with heresy. 
Among Protestants, who possess the privi* 
lege of reading the Scriptures, and forming 
their lives and opinions by them, it is hard- 
ly possible but that some shades of differ- 



OF OLD AGE. 101 

ence should exist ; particularly among those 
who, like the Bereans, " receive the wdrd 
ei with all readiness of mind, and search the 
" Scriptures daily." " Errare possum (says 
Augustin) HERETicus esse nolo i " I may 
iC err, but I will never be an Heretic/' The 
true Christian is known by his fruits. His 
object is vital and practical Christianity ; 
not the diving into mysteries, on which God 
hath not thought proper expressly to declare 
his will.— What is so revealed, the Chris- 
tian feels it his duty to obey ; with these 
encouraging words from our redeemer, " If 
u a man love me, he will keep my words ; 
" and my father will love him, and we will 
''come to him and make our abode with 
" him/' — Let us therefore bear in mind the 
saying of Moses — " The secret things 

M BELONG UNTO THE LORD OUR GOD : BUT 
" THOSE THINGS WHICH ARE REVEALED, 
■ BELONG UNTO US AND TO OUR CHILDREN 
" FOR EVER, THAT WE MAY DO THEM." 



102 THE COMFORTS 

Bishop Gibson. It is the holy spirit 
alone, which incites and enables us to do 
good ; and to render to God acceptable ser- 
vice ; though the mirapulous endowment of 
it has long ceased, and it is now no other- 
wise discernible than by its fruits and ef- 
fects, as they appear in our lives. But 
these enthusiasts , my friend, endeavour to 
persuade others, and some of them seem to 
be themselves persuaded, that they are mi- 
raculously gifted, and directed in an extra- 
ordinary manner by divine impulses and im- 
pressions of the spirit of God ; not distin- 
guishing aright between the ordinary and 
extraordinary operations of the holy spirit : 
and they thus wander on from error to 
error, in the mazes of enthusiasm, because 
they will not submit themselves to a proper 
guide and director. 

■ 
Bishop Hough. I am not insensible of 
the dangers of enthusiasm, or ignorant of the 



OF OLD AGE* 103 

persecutions and excesses to which it has 
led, when bigots have attempted to force 
their creeds upon the consciences of others. 
Misjudging of the motives and principles of 
their brethren, presuming on the exclusive 
truth of their own opinions, and impelled by 
religious anveiety, they thought, like Paul, 
they were doing Goi> service when they 
were persecuting their Christian brethren. 
How different the devout and zealous 
Christian, whose errors are accompanied by 
meekness and humility ! — Who can acquit 
the benevolent, the excellent Fenelo.v, the 
venerable Archbishop of Cambray of the 
charge of enthusiasm. Yet it was the en- 
thusiasm of piety and devotion : it was the 
aspiration of the creature to its Creator. 
Pure and undefiled religion is of no sect : 
whatever garb it wear, and whatever be the 
denomiation of the sincere and faithful be- 
liever, let us in him acknowledge the bro- 
ther. — But the tendency of infidelity is to 



104 THE COMFORTS, 

narrow the soul, to weaken its energy, con- 
tract its views, and to confine its hopes to 
the present period of existence. The infidel 
is a solitary and ferocious animal ; reckless 
of the welfare of others, and occupied with 
the sensual and selfish enjoyment of the pre- 
sent hour : while such a believer as Fene- 
lon, — though he may err, in opinion, and 
carry his religious feelings to an extent not 
warranted by Scripture, is raised above 
the petty objects of this transitory state, 
and despising danger and death, looks 
forward with fervent hope to the rewards of 
futurity. 

Bishop Gibson. Your seclusion from 
public life, my excellent friend, has made 
you less acquainted with this new sect of 
Methodists, and the intemperance and hos- 
tility of their conduct. They now carry 
their presumption so far, as to pretend to 
--ordain -for the ministry: they have the 



OF OLD AGE, 105 

audacity to accuse our clergy of neglect of 
duty, not merely in lesser points, but in the 
primary and essential one, of preaching the 
Gospel. They profess to agree with us in 
doctrine, while they separate from us in 
communion and unite against us in prac- 
tice : and, pretending to extraordinary sanc- 
tity, they seek for excess of power, and by 
extending their influence over the kingdom 
threaten the subversion of the Establish- 
ment. Is not this, Bishop of Worcester, a 
just and sufficient cause for anxiety? 

Bishop Hough, I think not. If it be of 
man, it will come to nought; but if it be of 
God, we cannot overthrow it, nor n^ed we 
fear evil from it. May they not, in the 
hands of Providence, be the means of bring- 
ing us to a more acute sense of our duty, 
and to a more perfect knowledge of evan- 
gelical truth? The Christian Church has 
never been in so great danger, as when it 



106 THE COMFORTS 

has continued for any time in a state^of un- 
ruffled prosperity. The existence of sects 
seems to me not only to be inseparable from 
the nature of imperfect intelligence, but of 
benefit to religion itself; and while the Bi- 
ble continues to be the acknowledged stand- 
ard of faith, they can be of no material pre- 
judice. I respect even the errors of the 
conscientious Christian ; and feel the impos- 
sibility of a perfect unison of sentiment, in 
rational beings tvho think for themselves. 
That there have been sectaries, whose ob- 
jects were worldly praise and Wbrldly 
power, cannot be denied : but the number 
I trust is limited. And, looking to the true 
interests of religion, let us consider in what 
state (had no diversity of opinion existed) 
Christianity might have been at the present 
day : if we now are luke-warm, what would 
have been our state of torpidity had one do- 
minant creed been submitted to by all 
Christians, without examination, for a pe- 



OF OLD AGE. 107 



riod of seventeen centuries; and there had 
existed no difference of religious opinion, to 
induce inquiry or awaken interest ? Let us 
at the same time not forget, that the right 
of searching the holy scriptures, and judg- 
ing for ourselves, was the ground, on which 
we separated from the church of Rome, 
venerable both in antiquity and authority ; 
and let us be very tender of abridging this 
right to others. While we bear in mind 
that we are the descendants of fallen and 
imperfect creatures, we can hardly presume 
that of all sects, we alone are without any 
shade of error or warp of prejudice ; and 
we should be very careful how we intermix 
any desires or interests of our own, with the 
concerns of religion, " When lust (says the 
Apostle James) hath conceived, it bringeth 
" forth sin ; and sin, when it is completed, 
a bringeth forth death." 



o v 



Mr. Lyttelton. Did it ever strike you ; 



108 THE COMFORTS 

my Lord, that to this single verse, we are 
indebted for Mr. Milton's bold and poetic 
Allegory of Sin and Death ? 

Bishop Hough. The observation to me 
is new, and appears to be founded. — But to 
proceed. — I have mentioned devout prayer, 
earnest endeavour, and habitual piety 
(whereby, to use our Saviour's words, the 
Kingdom of God is within its, or as St. 
Paul explains it, we are filled with " righ- 
" teousness and peace, and joy in the Holy 
(t Ghost") — as the means of obtaining that 
happy temperament of mind, on the regular 
prevalence of which, our mental and bodily 
health, and our present and future happiness 
do in a great measure depend. — To these I 
must add cheerful thoughts, derived 
from cheerful society, and from the perusal 
of pleasant and entertaining books. — The 
latter we can always command; but the 
frequency of social intercourse will depend, 



OF OLD AGE, 109 

not merely on the temper of the host, but 
on local and accidental circumstances : and 
I rejoice to find, that hitherto neither my 
age or appearance have terrified the young 
and the gay from my presence. As, how- 
ever, the society of books may be always en- 
joyed, I shall enlarge a little on that subject. 
— The mind is a camelion. It takes its co- 
lour from that with which it is most conver- 
sant, but particularly from its studies ; 
which, as Cicero observes, have a great and 
important influence on the human character. 
We are sensible of the danger, of habituat- 
ing ourselves to representations of cruelty 
or sensuality ; aware, that the one hardens 
the heart, and the other debases and cor- 
rupts it. Yet few attend to the effects of 
those writings, which furnish melancholy 
and desponding ideas, and cast a shade 
over our view of a world, in which (however 
impaired by sin and disobedience) a merci- 
ful Creator has abundantly provided for the 



110 THE COMFORTS 

happiness of his creatures. The accustom- 
ing of a child to cheerful habits, is of such 
importance to its welfare in life, that it 
ought to be an object of education ; and it 
would not only be compatible with disci- 
pline, but might be made subservient to it, 
and accelerate the progress of instruction. 

Bishop Gibson. If Mr. Locke's sugges- 
tion of engraving the feelings and wishes of 
children, and substituting for terror and cor- 
poral punishment, emulation and the desire 
to excel, could be practically adopted in 
our schools, it would contribute greatly to 
that habitual cheerfulness, which you, Bro- 
ther, so properly recommend. He who 
shall ever arrange, and carry into practice, 
such a system of education, will confer an 
essential benefit on mankind, and gladden 
the hearts of millions. 

Bishop Hough. Habitual cheerfulness, 



OF OLD AGE. Ill 

indeed, may be considered as a continued 
act of gratitude to the giver of all good, for 
the countless blessings which we enjoy: 
and, as it forms a part of the Christian cha- 
racter, we should avoid all books of a con- 
trary tendency. But there is another 
species of reading, which I deem it proper 
to protest against ; — the perusal of those 
writings, which tend to vilify and degrade 
human nature. When we are induced to 
forego the high pretensions of rational and 
immortal beings, the heart becomes enfee- 
bled and debased. Submitting to a lower 
estimate of our rank in creation, we weaken 
the spring of virtuous and noble actions ; 
for no one, who has a mean opinion of his 
own character and powers, will act above 
the standard ivhich he has fixed on. Mr. 
Addison has truly said, that u there is not a 
"more improving exercise of the human 
" mind, than to be frequently viewing its 
"own great privileges and endowments; 



112 THE COMFORTS 

"nor more effectual means to awaken in us 
ig an ambition, raised above low objects and 
"little pursuits, than to value ourselves as 
u heirs of eternity."— There is yet a third 
species, which it seems necessary to notice ; 
I mean those writings, which are calculated 
to vituperate our national character. All 
misrepresentations of the actions and mo- 
tives, even of our enemies, are unjustifiable 
and criminal ; but an attempt thus to de- 
grade and paralyse qur own country, goes 
as far beyond the other, as the crime of a 
parricide exceeds that of a common mur- 
derer : and when this is committed under 
the pretence of patriotism and candour, the 
most abandoned guilt is aggravated by the 
most infamous hypocrisy. — In selecting 
books, therefore, for my perusal, I prefer 
those which supply the mind with cheerful 
and pleasing ideas : such as may not only 
furnish conversation in society, but most 
gratefully occur to the recollection, an 



' 



OF OLD AGE. 1 13 

provide intellectual pleasure at other times : 
— such as may enliven solitude , and amuse 
a wakeful hour at night* In the first class 
of these I place the Holy Scriptures ; and 
after them, the classic writers of different 
ages and countries. — What solitary or heavy 
moment can that rational being experience, 
whose mind is stored with contemplations 
of the power, wisdom, and benignity of the 
Divine Being, — animated by the hope of an 
happy immortality, — and enlivened by the 
most pleasing and ingenious productions of 
the human mind ? The aged, who for w r ant of 
instruction in youth, or from indolent habits 
in mature life, are incapable of reading, and 
are thereby deprived of the intellectual 
comfort which it affords, are almost if not 
quite as much the objects of compassion, as 
those who have lost their appetite for bodily 
food. 

Bishop Gibson. Yet I have met with 
I 



114 THE COMFORTS 

some illiterate parents, who have had 
strange apprehensions of their children be- 
coming too fond of books, lest they should 
injure their constitution by over-study. 

Bishop Hough. Among the sources of 
health, at my advanced period of life, I rec- 
kon my constant practice of devoting certain 
hours every day to literature or science. 
Books are calculated, not only to meliorate 
the habits Y>f society, but to tranquillize the 
mind, soften asperity of character, extend 
the benevolent affections > and to intellectual 
lize the sensual part of our nature : and in- 
deed it is an unfounded prejudice (as the 
indefatigable Bishop Huet has observed) to 
imagine, that the pursuit of learning is 
injurious to health. Studious men are as 
long lived in general, as others. The lite- 
rati y to whom we are indebted for the amus- 
ing collection known under the title of ana, 
were long lived : two thirds of them passed 



OF OLD AGE. 115 

the age of seventy-six ; and as many of 
them attained the age of ninety, as died un- 
der sixty. In fact, if excess of exertion be 
avoided (I address myself particularly to 
you, dear Bishop of London) and if exercise 
and temperance be not neglected, the kind 
of occupation which the love of literature 
supplies, and the regular, calm, and uni- 
form course of life which it ensures, will 
conduce generally to health, and preclude 
many things which might otherwise impair 
it. — But to return to my subject. He who 
can read the classical writers for taste, and 
the scriptures for devotion, need never be 
apprehensive of the tedium of age. For my 
own part, T make it a rule constantly to de- 
vote a certain period of the day to each of 
these studies. But I do not stop there. 
Fortunately for me, among some property 
left by a relation, was a large collection of 
voyages, travels, history, biography, roman- 
ces, novels, and a variety of miscellaneous 



116 THE COMFORTS 

books. I say, fortunately ; for if I had been 
obliged to resort for them to my bookseller, 
as a purchaser, some of my flock would 
have exclaimed, ec our old Bishop might era- 
"ploy his money and his time on better 
" books. 5 ' 

Bishop Gibson. What, Brother, are we 
then to infer, that you have admitted novels 
and romances into your library, as sour- 
ces of literary occupation? Is not their 
tendency, to enfeeble the mind, to give a 
false estimate of life, to corrupt the imagi- 
nation, and unfit us for the enjoyment of 
domestic society, — making every day that is 
not marked by some striking and interest- 
ing occurrence, appear tame, heavy, and 
insipid ? 

Bishop Hough. Novels are not admit- 
ted into my list, except speciali gratia ; — 
not that a man turned of ninety, need be 



OF OLD AGE. 117 

warned against their bad effects. In this 
uncertain world, however, when there are 
such frequent calls for fortitude and resigna- 
tion, those studies are best, which strengthen 
the mind and direct it to higher and 
nobler objects : they will indeed be found 
of the greatest comfort and utility, under 
the trials of this probationary state ; and 
our daily prayer should be for purity of heart, 
holiness of life, and daily progress in habi- 
tual kindness, in mutual forbearance, and 
devout resignation to the will of God. But 
all this, Bishop of London, is not inconsis- 
tent with occasional recurrence to these 
lighter studies, which promote gaiety of 
heart and vivacity of mind. Nor do I con- 
ceive that universally, such writers are either 
idle, or merely entertaining. Cheerful ha- 
bits may be acquired by the perusal of them. 
Incidents and thoughts may be stored in the 
mind, to enliven not only the grave and va- 
cant hour, but what is sometimes much 



118 THE COMFORTS 






more heavy and tiresome, grave and vacant 
discourse. They may serve to illustrate a 
serious discussion, and to attract the young 
and the gay to one's habitation. — I am very 
fond of voyages and travels. The being 
able to make the tour of Europe, or to sail 
round the world, without quitting the com- 
fort of one's arm chair, is to an old man at 
least such a luxury, that when we talk of 
taxing luxuries, I marvel how this escapes. 
Besides, they excite in me a warm interest, 
for the moral and religious improvement of 
distant regions ; just as historical reading 
creates gratitude in my heart, for the age 
and country in which my happy lot has been 
cast. HisTORY is indeed to me always de- 
lightful. The being able to exist, not only 
at the present hour, but in any period of six 
thousand years back,— to trace events from 
their causes, and to estimate the progress 
sive improvement of mankind, are gratifica- 
tions of the highest order. — Of the authors 



OF OLD A£E. 1 19 

of what are sometimes miscalled idle books, 
I honour Cervantes for his courage and 
talent. Surrounded by the snares and fires 
of the Inquisition, he has ventured, in many 
parts of his Don Quixote, to attack the 
frauds and delusions of papal Rome, with 
infinite spirit and address. He has furnish- 
ed excellent lessons for our instruction : 
and whenever, in early life, I was seized 
with a slight paroxysm of ambition, I found 
in the annals of Sancho Pan9a's short and 
toilsome government, an effectual and plea- 
sing remedy. From Gil Blas' own history 
I [have learnt to bear the little untoward in- 
cidents of life with calmness and good hu- 
mour : and the story of the Archbishop of 
Granada has not been lost upon me ; for 
while I am fulfilling my clerical duties, I 
am careful not to weary the world with my 
homilies. And I trust, if my faithful and 
affectionate friend and Secretary Harrison, 
who has just left the room, were to w r arn 



120 THE COMFORTS 

me that I was extending the period of my 
oratory a little too far, I should not reply 
with the eloquent Archbishop, " Allez dire 
"a mon Tresorier qu'il vous compte cent 
" ducats. — Adieu, Monsieur Harrison : je 
" vous souhaite toutes sortes de prosperites, 
"avec un peu plus de gout." — Moliere is 
with me a favourite author. After some of 
our English dramatists have shewn, that a 
composition may be offensively licentious 
and yet abominably dull, we have no small 
obligation to Moliere, for having proved 
that the comic muse may be decent and un- 
exceptionable, and yet extremely witty and 
entertaining. 

Bishop Gibson. I have often regretted, 
Brother, that our dramatic poet is not enti- 
tled to the same commendation. There is 
hardly a play of Shakespeare's, that can 
be enjoyed by a family circle ; some inde- 
corous expression or allusion occurring, 



OF OLD AGE. 121 

unsuitable to the feelings of chaste and de- 
licate minds. 

Bishop Hough. The compositions of 
Shakespeare mark the gross manners of the 
age, in which he lived ; as later produc- 
tions have displayed the profaneness and li- 
centiousness, which reigned in this country 
after the Restoration. Moliere belonged to 
•b Court which, however dissipated, always 
preserved an exterior of decency ; and he 
played off the little follies and foibles of life, 
with inimitable pleasantry and humour. 
But Shakespeare, with every disadvantage 
of situation, held an elevated course as a di- 
dactic and intellectual poet; and what- 
ever may remain of the contagious atmos- 
phere, through which it was his lot to pass, 
yet he displays the most sublime lessons of 
virtue and morality, that are to be found in 
any uninspired writer, 



122 THE COMFORTS 

Bishop Gibson. Why not then at once 
purify the source, and correct the plays for 
domestic use, as the players do for theatri- 
cal representation ; and in the inundation of 
commentated and illustrated editions, let 
there be one, purified and corrected for the 
benefit of private families? 

Bishop Hough. I heartily wish there 
were. — But to proceed. The perusal of the 
story of Baba Abdallah, (lately translated 
by Monsieur Galland in his mille et une 
nuits) is an antidote to avarice. — 

Mr. Lyttelton. Of all these Arabian 
tales, my Lord, none pleases me so much 
as that of Prince Zeyn Alasnam, who is 
the possessor of eight statues, each compo- 
sed of a single diamond. He is informed, 
however, that there is in the world a ninth 
statue, of a thousand times greater value 
than them all. The acquisition of this ines- 



OF OLD AGE. 123 

timable prize becomes his object. The sta- 
tue is at length obtained, — a lovely female 
of a pure unadulterated mind, whom he 
receives with this admirable lesson : c< If 
" you. wish she should preserve for you a 
M constant and unbroken faith, love her al- 
" ways, and love only her ; admit no rival 
ce in your affections, and I will be answer* 
P able for her fidelity." 

Bishop Hough. What, my young friend ! 
still thinking of the Eve, that is to adorn 
your paradise ? Do you then desire to apply 
these eight diamond statues, as foils — all to 
display the greater beauty of one beloved 
object? and do you not willingly admit that 
one statue parlante would surpass the 
other eight ? 



*©* 



Mr. Lyttelton. And with reason, my 
Lord : for what is the worth of mountains 
of diamonds, compared with a pure, spot- 



124 THE COMFORTS 

less, female form, illumined by benignity 
and intelligence, and endowed with an im- 
mortal soul ? How should a mere inani- 
mate substance be ever capable of vying 
with the display of mind in the human 
countenance ? or what brilliancy can gems 
and senseless matter add to the beams of be- 
nevolence and affection, emitted from the 
eye of a lovely Woman, and diffusing a 
gleam of light on all around her ? They 
can have no unison of character : but in- 
stead of adding lustre, must debase and 
contaminate the brightness of living beauty, 
and deteriorate what is divine and in- 
tellectual. 

Bishop Hough, Do you then venture, 
Mr. Lyttelton, to exclude diamonds from 
your thirty nine articles of female attire ? 
and will not a synod of matrons condemn 
such a doctrine as heresy ? 



OF OLD AGE. 125 

Mr. Lyttelton. Their matron rights, 
my Lord Bishop, I respect, and do not pre- 
sume to invade. I am ready to indulge 
those who may want it, in the glotv worm 
privilege of shining in diamonds, and display- 
ing that species of lustre, which in vegetable 
nature is generally recognised as the symp- 
tom of decay. Let them, if they prefer it, 
continue to enjoy the costly ornament, 
which our dramatic poet has ascribed to the 
terrific goddess, Adversity ; 

u Which like the toad, ugly and venemous, 
"Bears yet a precious jewel in its head." 

But, that youthful and resistless charms 
should be incumbered bv armour so unne- 
cessary, I cannot agree. A license to wear 
diamonds should never be granted, but as 
a compensation for the loss of youth and 
beauty. 



126 THE COMFORTS 

Bishop Gibson. Will not, bowever, 
some of your fair friends, Mr. Lyttelton, who 
are attached to these ornaments, be dispo- 
sed to consider this invective against dia- 
monds, as a defence of your purse % 

Mr. Lyttelton. If my Eve, as the Bi- 
shop of Worcester calls her, do not think 
so, I shall be indifferent to the opinion of 
others. 

Bishop Hough. No one who knows 
Mr. Lyttelton, will ever accuse him of ava- 
rice. — It is a propensity, however, which 
has been sometimes imputed to the aged, 
though I hope without justice. That men 
should wish in early or in mature life, to 
provide for extension of years and increase 
of family, may be very natural : but that an 
old man, just at his journey's end, should 
submit to be incumbered with what he can: 
have no possible use for, is to me perfectly 



OF OLD AGE. 127 

unaccountable. I must however measure 
my words, in what I say about avarice, as I 
have myself a propensity to hoarding. 
Whenever I can avoid the charge of a new 
coach, or curtail any expense the saving of 
which does not affect others, I accumulate 
a little fund for the first public or private 
call that may occur. This desire of saving, 
prevented any increase in my domestic esta- 
blishment, on my translation to Worcester ; 
and has enabled me to set apart an annual 
sum, in the appropriation of which I have 
no interest, except in the pleasure which I 
derive from the happiness of others. 

Mr. Lyttelton, I am indeed convinced 
that the gratification to be derived from be- 
neficence, is of all our pleasures the most 
enviable : and therefore I pity those, whom 
narrowness of circumstances precludes from 
this enjoyment. 



128 THE COMFORTS 

Bishop Hough. And who, Mr. Ly Hel- 
ton, are they? When the widow's mite 
proved the best and most acceptable gift, 
— who can plead poverty, as an excuse for 
the neglect of this duty ? Something may 
be done or contributed, even by the most 
necessitous : more will be expected of the 
rich. In all cases, it should bear a propor- 
tion to the means, and to what can be well 
spared ; and it should not be exercised 
thoughtlessly or lavishly, but with attention 
and discrimination. We may bestow all 
our goods to feed the poor, and yet have no 
charity : for this listless and unprincipled 
prodigality of bounty, is not only devoid of 
merit as to ourselves, but is frequently inju- 
rious to the very objects of our charity.™ 
Professionally, you know, I ought to be a 
friend to tithes. As soon therefore as I had 
any income at all, I began by devoting a 
tenth part of it to objects, in which self had 
no concern; and I kept to this little 



OF OLD AGE. 129 

proportion, not intending to wrong myself 
or my heirs, by appropriating more. I have 
sometimes, however, improved my charita- 
ble stock, from windfalls on my leases, and 
by economy in my expenditure. For as this 
fund really aftbrds me more pleasure than 
any other, I catch at any fair means of im- 
proving it; and without departing from 
my original proportion, I have found it 
(although sometimes anticipated) in gene- 
ral, equal to the calls, which have been 
made upon it. 

Mr. Lyttelton. According to your 
principle then, my Lord, the poor man may 
be charitable : I wish he had also the power 
of benefiting mankind by example. 

Bishop Gibson. And why not, Mr. 
Lyttelton? If he has a wife and children, 
will they not be better for what he may do, 
or ay? If he has relations and neighbours ; 

K 

V 



130 THE COMFORTS 

may not his example extend also to them ? 
And have not they their families and 
friends, who will probably be influenced 
by them ? See then how far the light of one 
individual may extend. 

Bishop Hough. Let me now say a few 
words, about the division and employment 
of my time. — We assemble in the morning 
to prayers and breakfast, and again at din- 
ner ; and also at supper, where if the con- 
versation prove interesting, we sometimes 
linger on, unwilling to part, though hoping 
to have the pleasure of meeting the next 
morning as well as we parted, In the winter 
my quadrille party, and in the summer my 
bowling green, are of no small importance 
to me. The last ten or tw r elve days have 
been fine ; and I have not neglected to 
make the best of them, either by bowling at 
home, or taking the air abroad ; which I 
thank Goo, keeps me in good health, let 






OF OLD AGE. 131 

the young have their hunters and their ten- 
nis-courts, provided they envy not me my 
bowling-green, my easy carriage, and my 
quadrille-table. — The spring is to me al- 
ways delightful ; and old as 1 am, I cannot 
forbear, after the winter's confinement, to 
peep out as the insects do, and see how my 
little improvements are advancing. My 
horses and carts have for some time back 5 
been employed in conveying earth to a low 
piece of ground, which, by degrees we have 
gained from the moat, — a tedious work, 
that shews nothing at present but rubbish 
and disorder: yet I flatter myself, that 
when I have given it its projected form, I 
shall not only have got an acre of useful 
ground, but have gained some credit for 
taste in the picturesque. You, Bishop of 
London, who are prudent and discreet, will, 
I fear, think I have always been too fond of 
brick and mortar. 



132 THE COMFORTS 

Bishop Gibson. Ill confess that I have 
often wondered at your troubling yourself 
so much with building, when planting and 
improving your ground would have occupied 
you with less cost or anxiety 

Bishop Hough. I like planting well 
enough : but I never could make my trees 
grow as fast as my walls do. Indeed I 
have been building now for above half a 
century. I begun with my Rectory at 
Tempsford, just fifty -five years ago. The 
President's apartment at Magdalen College, 
and the new building there, occupied all 
my spare money and time, till I was trans- 
lated to Litchfield and Coventry, in 1699> 
I then found my new episcopal residence at 
Eccleshall in a very proper state for a build- 
ing Bishop. In fact I almost renewed it : 
and I have since added a new front to the 
palace at Worcester, and done a good deal 
to this Castle, as it is called, of Hartlebury. 



OF OLD AGE. 133 

I make it a rule, as soon as I have finished 
one work and settled the bills, to project 
another : and if I do not immediately an- 
nounce my intentions, I hear my old carpen- 
ter, with an anxious look, say, " My Lord, 
if you do not find us another job, we shall 
be very didL" — Perhaps I may have been 
censured for proceeding in works of this 
sort at my time of day. Some of my neigh- 
bours may ask, " What prospect has this 
"old Bishop of ours, of seeing his projects 
" completed and brought to maturity?" 
Others perchance will be more severe, and 
say, that " I should now direct my attention 
"to the earth that is so soon to cover me : 
" that then, all these worldly thoughts will 
"be at an end; and a man so near the 
"grave as myself, should learn to shake 
" them off, and supply their place with me- 
" ditations of a different nature." They 
would require with Cicero, non minus Otii 
qnam negotii rationem extare. But Cicero 



134 THE COMFORTS 

and Shakespeare were both notorious pun- 
sters : and let me observe that occupations 
of this kind may give birth to the most seri- 
ous thoughts ; and that vanity and folly are 
never more out of my head, than when my 
mind is so occupied. How many people 
derive their amusement from vicious pro- 
pensities ? How many more from frivolous 
and contemptible pursuits ? And indeed 
can human life subsist comfortably, without 
some resources of this kind? My excellent 
mistress, Queen Mary, held the want of 
employment to be the source of all evil ; 
and that any thing that would occupy and 
interest the mind, without leaving any dregs 
of evil behind it, ought to fill up those va- 
cant hours, that were not claimed by devo- 
tion or business. She and the ladies of her 
court brought work again into fashion. — 
The object should be, to make our occupa- 
tions not only inoffensive, but useful ; and 
so to manage them, as to improve for those 



OF OLD AGE. 135 

who succeed us, and to supply employment 
and food for those who are dependant upon 
us. — Excuse me, my dear friends, if I am 
too diffuse. My wish is to suggest some of 
the means which I have adopted, to pre- 
clude anxiety of mind, and preserve a con- 
stant flow of cheerful and pleasing 
thoughts, 

Mr. Lyttelton. Thank you, my dear 
Lord. You open new light on me, by so 
forcibly displaying the impropriety of che- 
rishing anxious thoughts. I shall add to 
my list, as the eighth deadly sin, that of anx- 
iety of mind ; and resolve not to be pining 
and miserable, when I ought to be grateful 
and happy. 

Bishop Hough. I have endeavoured to 
shew, how mental anxiety may be relieved 
and habitual cheerfulness obtained, — by re- 
gular and earnest prayer, by social inter- 



136 THE COMFORTS 

course, by entertaining books, by pleasant 
and innocent amusement, and by constant 
employment; so that every occupation shall 
have its hour, and every hour its occupation. 
But there is another source of cheerfulness 
and complacency of mind in advanced life, 
which ought not to be forgotten : I mean 
the pleasure of reflecting during the infirmi- 
ty of age, on the benevolent exertions which 
we have made in the active period of life.- — 
What comfort will not you always derive, 
Bishop of London, from your endeavours to 
disperse the mists of popery? The light 
which you have thus diffused, will shed a 
lustre round your path, as you descend the 
hill of life. — And again, may not you and I, 
my friend, look back with satisfaction, on 
the active share we took, in improving the 
religious knowledge and habits of the poor, 
at the commencement of the present centu- 
ry? Much was then done under her Majes- 
ty's sanction. The effects are already to be 



OF OLD AGE. 137 

traced, in the check which has been given 
to that extreme profaneness and immorality, 
which had prevailed from the time of the 
restoration ; and a foundation has been laid 
for a system of universal education, ex- 
tended to every individual in the country. 
In all the darkest and most depraved ages 
of the world, ignorance has been the source 
of vice and immorality. The soul will not 
be left vacant and unoccupied. — To talk of 
keeping evil out of the mind by ignorance, 
is idle. You must choose between two 
things. If you do not supply it with useful 
knowledge, — if it be not instructed in virtue 
and piety, it will abound in vice and wick- 
edness. If it be not cultivated with good 
seed, the evil spirit will fill the deserted 
space with tares. 

Mr. Lyttelton. The importance of a 
general system of education, extended to all 
classes and ranks of people, has been very 



138 THE COMFOKTS 

strongly impressed on my mind by what I 
saw during my travels in Italy, and by what 
I have read of ancient history. I am now 
indeed convinced, that if our free consti- 
tution is to be perpetuated, it must be by the 
universal adoption of a system of moral and 
religious instruction History, both ancient 
and modern, proves that liberty is not pe- 
culiar to any soil or climate : but the off- 
spring of virtue and intelligence, where- 
ver they fix their abode. At the time when 
Britain was immersed in ignorance, and 
bowed its head under the voke cf oppression, 
Bologna, Modena, St, Marino, and some 
other parts of Jtaly were distinguished for 
science, literature, and regulated liberty. 
On my late visit to Italy, I found the great 
mass of the people, in these and other parts, 
debased and degraded, the victims of des- 
potism and ignorance, — while we are en- 
joying the blessings of freedom and intelli- 
gence. 



OF OLD AGS 139 

Bishop Hough. Oar late brother Burnet, 
of Sarum, who was ever a true and zealous 
friend of liberty, has justly observed, that 
iC the education of youth is the foundation of 
u all that can be performed for bettering the 
" next age :" and it must be to both of us 
a perpetual gratification , to reflect that we 
have contributed to this unfailing antidote 
against moral depravity. If the voluptuary 
did but once experience the gratification 
which may be derived, from the instruction 
of the ignorant, the relief of necessity, and 
the calming of the anxious and troubled 
mind, he would be able to enlarge greatly 
the scope of his enjoyments. And here let 
me observe, that independently of the plea- 
sures of looking back on what we have done, 
a rich source of gratification is to be derived 
from the prospective view of the welfare of 
others ; especially when we have been so 
fortunate, as to contribute to that welfare. 
To the aged in particular, this interest in 



140 THE COMFORTS 

the well-being of those around them, is of 
use in giving action to the heart, and nou- 
rishment to the lamp of life. It is one of 
the most potent cordials for the languor of 
old age. My wishes and hopes may, in- 
deed, sometimes deceive me ; yet the allu- 
sions are so satisfactory, and the error so 
grateful to the mind, that, for one at least, 
I cannot be persuaded to forego them ; and 
whenever in the poor there is natural acute- 
ness, and a pre-disposition to piety and the 
kindly affections, I have a real gratification 
in assisting them to rise in the world, as ob- 
jects of excitement to the other poor ; there- 
by promoting among the labouring class, 
more general habits of exertion, industry, 
prudence, and virtue. 

Mr. Lyttelton. I sometimes meet with 
men of fortune, who appear to be in good 
health and of a benevolent disposition ; yet 
by a constitutional languor and by a weari- 



OF OLD AGE. Ml 

ness of mind are unfitted to take an active 
part in promoting the welfare of others. Is 
not this, my Lord, a lamentable misfortune ? 

Bishop Hough. The Preacher hath said, 
all is vanity. And so it is, when man 
shrinks from his duty, and takes no concern 
—feels no sympathy, in the pains and plea- 
sures of his fellow creatures. He then finds 
indeed, that cc all is vanity and vexation of 
spirit." But when he is at his post — when 
he is strenuously and usefully employed, no- 
thing is vain or unsatisfactory: he looks 
with complacency on his present occupa- 
tion, with hope at his future prospects. — 
Insulated and unconnected, what would 
the descendants of Adam be ? forlorn and 
useless beings, of all animals the most help- 
less. Our comforts depend on the wants 
of others, and on our own exertions. Man 
is at the same time a social and contempla- 
tive — a dependant and a beneficent being. 
His scale of happiness is commensurate to 



142 TftE COMFORTS 

his mutual intercourse of benefits, and to 
the amount of good which he confers or re- 
ceives. Whenever that channel is stopped, 
the sources of happiness are obstructed, and 
the dearest charities and enjoyments of life 
are suspended. No individual exists, but 
has some allotted circle, to which his influ- 
ence or example may extend ; so as to sup- 
ply him with the social pleasure, of contri- 
buting to the well-being of others. It seems 
to me, therefore, that the science of promot- 
ing more general habits of exertion, indus- 
try, prudence and virtue among our fellow 
subjects, should be systematically cultivated. 
Institutions should be formed and informa- 
tion supplied, particularly for the benefit of 
the idle and the opulent, the nervous and 
the hypochondriac ; to enable them to im- 
prove their state of health, and to enlarge 
their sphere of utility and enjoyment, by the 
interest they might be taught to acquire in 
the happiness of those around them. 



OF OLD AGE.' 143 

Bishop Gibson. Instruction so useful 
should not be confined to middle age. It 
should be extended to the rising generation; 
so as to give them early habits of being use- 
ful to themselves and others. In the edu- 
cation of the higher classes of life, there is 
a want of attention to the cherishing and 
promoting of the sympathetic affections ; 
without which, and the energy and activity 
which they supply, the human heart is lia- 
ble to become hard and selfish, sensual and 
voluptuous. Besides this, it sometimes 
happens that young persons, born to opu- 
lence and independence, become listless and 
torpid ; or waste their affections on cats, 
monkies, dogs, and parrots, for want of pro- 
per objects of interest and attachment : and 
thus sow the seeds of satiety and caprice, 
for the anoyance of their future life. 

Bishop Hough. I perfectly agree with 
you ; and have therefore been delighted 



144 THE COMFORTS 

with a little incident; which my Kensington 
correspondent has just sent me, of a Gene- 
ral Officer whom we all love and value. 
He is left a widower, with three young and 
lovely daughters. He has a neighbour, 
whose youngest child, an interesting and 
beautiful girl, has been long suffering with 
cheerful resignation, under a painful and 
hopeless malady : and our friend, the Ge- 
neral, asked and obtained leave of his 
neighbour, for his three girls to make very 
frequent visits to her sick room, as the school 
of sympathy ; where they alternately at- 
tend, as the little nurses of their dear inva- 
lid ; thus cherishing in their youthful minds, 
habits of gratitude for the health which 
they enjoy, and of pity for the sufferings of 
others. 

Mr. Lyttelton. I know the General 
well. The anecdote is quite in character. 
But, my Lord, I have had frequent occasion 



OF OLD AGE, 145 

to observe during my travels that this sym- 
pathy is generally increased, in proportion 
to the necessity and helplessness of the ob- 
ject. In the vallies of Switzerland, the 
ideots of that country, under all the disad- 
vantages of deformity and imbecility, are 
cherished with extraordinary kindness and 
affection : a most gratifying instance this of 
a merciful Providence, which, while defect 
of mind or body in the child, blights the 
hope and checks the pride of parents and 
friends, it awakens compassion, and increa- 
ses anxiety for its protection and preser- 
vation. 

Bishop Hough. Let me now draw your 
attention to another advantage of old age ; — ■ 
its legitimate right to indulge in ease and 
leisure, after a life of activity and exertion; 
with the consciousness, that this indulgence 
is then as beneficial to health, as in youth it 
is pernicious. When I had nearly attained 

L 



146 THE COMFORTS 

fourscore, I thought myself, justified in giv- 
ing up ray triennial visitations; not so 
much on account of fatigue, either of travel- 
ling or of delivering my charges to the 
clergy, as of the numerous confirmations : 
which were very laborious, and might have 
exhausted a man, even in an earlier period 
of life. I had before that, discontinued my 
attendance in Parliament, and my annual 
visit to the Metropolis : and though I have 
for the last twelve years lived almost wholly 
at Hartlebury, yet I do not feel myself se- 
cluded from the world, while I have kind 
friends to supply me with all the interest- 
ing events of busy life. Indeed I sometimes 
think that I am now better acquainted with 
what is going on in town, than when I used 
to be a resident : and I interest myself more 
than ever in the progress, and matrimonial 
connections, not only of my own friends and 
relations, but of all those families, in whose 
history I conceive the welfare of the com- ! 



OF OLD AGE, 147 

munity to be implicated. Again, if I do not 
regularly answer letters or dispatch busi- 
ness, I can plead my age, and the indul- 
gence to which I am entitled. These are 
saucy infirmities ; but the plea is allowed 
by the good nature of my friends :— -not that 
I can claim to be disabled from writing and 
thinking; but I may fairly aver that neither 
my head nor my hand are so active as they 
have been ; and when you consider that I 
am this day entered on my ninetieth year, I 
dare say you will not wonder at it. 

Bishop Gibson. The only wonder to us, 
Brother, is that you bear it so lightly and 
pleasantly. 

Bishop Hough. My London correspon- 
dents wrote me word last winter, that the 
frost pinched very much in town, and that 
in the country they supposed I must feel it 
in greater extremity. I cannot say but that 



148 THE COMFORTS 

I really felt it : but then I had plenty of 
fuel, and I indulged myself freely in the use 
of it : and this, with the ordinary provisions 
of warm clothes and food, fortified me 
against its rigour : so that the winter passed 
very gently over my head. I am easy both 
in body and mind, and am looking to the 
end of my journey without anxiety. I sel- 
dom go now, more than three or four miles 
from home ; but am pleased to see you and 
my other friends, and to hear from you ; and 
I must do you all the justice to say, you do 
not forget me. What infirmities I have, I 
expected years ago. I therefore do by no 
means complain of them now ; but adore 
that gracious Providence, which has brought 
them upon me gently and insensibly, and 
suffered my life to wear out in a quiet and 
easy manner. — Cicero has observed, that as 
the craving for bodily food is diminished in 
advanced life, the appetite for conversation 
is augmented. I feel the truth of his obser- 



OF OLD AGE, 149 

vation, and in proportion as I apprehend 
the diminution of animal gratifications, I 
endeavour to provide intellectual enjoy- 
ments to supply the place. Thus as I lose 
the relish for the active and boisterous plea- 
sures of youth, I acquire more appetite for 
the tranquil amusements of age : and my 
mental pleasure increases, in proportion as 
the sensual appetite is abated. In conse- 
quence of this, my taste for the fine arts 
and the classics, and my delight in the sub- 
lime beauties of the sacred scriptures, have 
augmented to such a degree during the last 
thirty years, that I seem to have acquired a 
new sense : supplying a foretaste of that ex- 
istence, where our enjoyments shall be spi- 
ritual, unchanging, and eternal. 

Mr. Lyttelton. My dear Lord, you 
have so warmed yourself with your sub- 
ject, that I am apprehensive of your being 



150 THE COMFORTS 

fatigued and exhausted by the excess of 
your exertions. 

Bishop Hough, Ah no, dear Mr. Lyt- 
telton ! the subject can never fatigue or 
exhaust me. It is to me a source of health 
and comfort ; and my meditations on it pro- 
duce those effects, which Longinus ascribes 
to the true sublime : — " It elevates and af- 
" fects me, swelling my mind with transport 
" and inward satisfaction, and supplying 
" ideas more enlarged and more exalted, 
"than the mere sounds of words can con- 
"vey." — You, Mr. Lyttelton, would have 
quoted the original : I can only give a tran- 
script of the impression left on my mind, ! 
when I read it ; having been too busy at the 
age of sixty, to follow Cato's example, and 
to devote my time to the study of Greek. — 
Let me here observe to you, that the gratifi- 
cations, which I now derive from reading, 



OF OLD AGE. 15] 

conversing, and meditating, are of a differ- 
ent order from what I formerly enjoyed in 
the active period of life. They have a 
calmness and tranquillity annexed to them, 
which more than compensates for the ab- 
sence of many of the hurrying and bustling 
pleasures of youth. The perusal of books, 
which either direct our hopes to future hap- 
piness or give lightness and gaiety to the 
fleeting hour, — conversation on scientific or 
literary subjects, on the events of our past 
lives, on the scenes now acting before us, or 
on future prospects, — and meditation on the 
attributes of God, on acts of duty performed 
by us, on kindness received from others, 
and on the invisible world to which we are 
approaching, — acquire a double relish in 
old age, and are of power to consign to ob- 
livion many of its infirmities. — It is at that 
advanced period of life, that the mind looks 
forward with anxious expectation to an eter- 
nity of bliss : and though incapable of fix! 



152 THE COMFORTS 

and permanent contemplation on the sub- 
ject, springs like the tinhorn babe quicken- 
ing into life, with the consciousness of the 
approach of a new and unexplored state o 
existence. 

Bishop Gibson. Assuredly, Brother* 
there cannot be a more animating motive to 
virtue and piety, than the prospect of eter- 
nal happiness, Whenever the arch-fiend 
— our great enemy is most earnest to per- 
vert and corrupt us, he labours to erase 
from the mind the hope of immortality : 
and as Dr. South has quaintly expressed it, 
"when once infidelity can persuade men, 
"that they shall die like beasts, they will 
" soon be brought to live like beasts also." 



*»* 



Bishop Hough. Yet this hope has 
cheered the heart of man m all ages. Some 
of the wisest and most virtuous heathens 
have, by the mere light of nature, perceived 



OF OLD AGE. 153 

that our future existence is the only one, 
deserving the name of life ; and that the 
soul, during its confinement in a mortal 
body, is doomed to a state of penance and 
probation, looking with desire to its native 
seat in heaven. If we consider the faculties 
of the mind, the rapidity of its conceptions, 
its recollection as to the past, its sagacity 
with regard to the future, and its discove- 
ries in every branch of art and science, it 
must be evident that this active and com- 
prehensive principle cannot be corporeal or 
mortal. " O my sons, (said the dying Cy- 
" rus) do not suppose that, when I shall be 
u separated from you by death, I shall cease 
" to exist. You beheld not my soul, while 
" I have been with you ; yet you were per- 
" suaded of its existence, by the actions you 
" saw me perform. Infer the same, when 
" you see me no more. — I never will be in- 
educed to believe, that the soul can properly 
" be said to live, while it remains in this 



154 THE COMFORTS 

" mortal body ; or that it will cease to have 
cc existence, when death has dissolved the 
" vital union. Neither can I be persuaded 
" that it will become void of sense, because 
"it has quitted its connection with senseless 
" matter ; or that, on the contrary, its intel- 
a lectual powers must not be improved, 
" when refined from corporeal mixture/ ' 

Mr. Lyttelton. I have frequently ad- 
mired that passage, my Lord, and consider 
it as one of the most favourable examples of 
the consolations of heathen philosophy. 

Bishop Hough. What, however, are 
these faint glimmerings of unassisted rea- 
son, compared with the divine light of Re- 
velation, which shineth more and more unto 
the perfect day ?— My strength declines and 
my end approaches : but I am most grate- 
ful, that the moderate degree of understand- 
ing which God has been pleased to give 



OF OLD AGE. 155 

me, is not impaired ; and I have a consoling 
hope, that when our Saviour shall come in 
all his glory to judge mankind, you and I, 
with allfaithful people, shall through the mer- 
cy of God, and the merits of our Redeemer, 
find a place at his right hand. What our 
portion may be in that kingdom, is known 
only to his Father and himself: but this is 
revealed to us, that at his right hand are 
pleasures above our conception to all eter- 
nity. I have no doubt but that I have 
lengthened my life, and preserved my health 
by the calmness and composure which I de- 
rive from frequent meditation on this sub- 
ject ; for what can be more delightful and 
invigorating to the mind, than to contem- 
plate with the eye of faith, a period now no 
longer distant, when I shall arrive at the 
eternal mansion, where the glory of God 
shall lighten it, and the Lamb shall be the 
light thereof? The earthly house of this pil- 



156 THE COMFORTS 

grimage shall then be dissolved, and I shall 
have a building of God, a house not made 
with hands, eternal in the heavens : and 
shall exclaim with the Apostle, " I have fi- 
cc nished my course, I have kept the faith ; 
" henceforth there is laid up for me a crown 
< c of righteousness, which the Lord, the 
cc righteous judge, shall give me at that 
cc day." — The sun shall then no more be my 
light by day, neither for brightness shall 
the moon give light unto me ; but the Lord 
shall be my everlasting light, and our God 
shall be my glory. — Nation shall not then 
lift up sword against nation, neither shall 
they learn war any more : for there shall be 
no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying ; 
neither shall there be any more pain. — And 
is not this a subject, my dear friends, to 
awaken all the enthusiasm of gratitude in 
my breast, and abundantly to recompense 
for the little aches and pains, the weaknesses 



OF OLD AGE. 157 

and infirmities, of old age? With these 
contemplations present during the day, and 
always ready to tranquillize my waking 
hours at night, is it wonderful that I should, 
with so little suffering or anxiety, have ad- 
vanced to my ninetieth year? or that I 
should exclaim, that neither death, nor life, 
nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, — 
nor things present, nor things to come, nor 
heighth, nor depth, nor any other creature, 
shall be able to separate me from the love 
of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. 
— The calm and steady perseverance, with 
which the martyrs for our faith in the times 
of primitive Christianity ; and the victims 
of bigotry in our latter days, have endured 
all the torments which malice and inge- 
nuity could invent and inflict, has ever been 
a subject of admiration and astonishment to 
the world. If, however, we reflect that 
(like as to the Proto- Martyr Stephen, when 
he looked stedfastly into Heaven, and saw 



158 THE COMFORTS 

the glory of God, and Jesus standing on 
the right hand of God) these contempla- 
tions must have been present to the mind ; 
and that they then anticipated with hope 
and faith, the blessed regions to which they 
were immediately advancing, and the glory 
and felicity prepared for them,— their stead- 
fastness and constancy become less matter 
of wonder. It was this Christian hope, this 
foretaste of the bliss of Paradise, which 
enabled the expiring martyr, Maccail, to 
exclaim, " Farewell sun, moon, and stars ; 
€t farewell kindred and friends, — farewell 
" world and time — farewell weak and frail 
" body : — welcome eternity, — welcome An- 
" gels and Saints,— welcome Saviour of the 
" World, and welcome God, the Judge of 

."all." Let us now advert to another 

source of gratification ; that w r e shall enjoy 
in our spiritual state, a degree of know- 
ledge, surpassing the glimmerings of this 
mortal state, far more than the matured wis- 



OF OLD AGE* 159 

dom of man exceeds the imperfect views 
of infancy ; so that not only all the secret 
recesses of natural knowledge, in which 
Boyle, Newton, Becher, Stahl, and 
Hale, have in our time been labouring with 
such successful assiduity, shall be then open- 
ed to our wondering eyes, — but that which 
has baffled all human skill, and has been the 
perpetual source of error, whenever man — 
weak man has attempted to pass beyond the 
express words of Revelation- — the immuta- 
ble nature and wisdom of the moral system 
of God's government in this nether world— 
will be open to our comprehension. New 
sources of the benevolent affections, new 
motives for gratitude and devotion to the 
giver of all good, and new r inlets of intellec- 
tual pleasure, will be supplied to the won- 
dering and enraptured mind ; and we shall 
then know, even as we are known. Look- 
ing therefore to the extension of the know- 
ledge which we now enjoy, while we are 



160 THE COMFORTS 

viewing with wonder this minute part of 
creation, what will be our delight, in perpe- 
tually discovering innumerable evidences of 
the divine power and wisdom, exemplified 
in new worlds, in new properties of matter, 
and in new uses and benefits to which crea- 
ted nature is made subservient, for the good 
of his creatures ? — Again, as to one of the 
sources of enjoyment, — who is so blind, 
w r ho has so little of intellectual feeling, as 
not to have experienced the delight of con- 
templating an intelligent and benevolent 
mind, addressing itself to the heart, through 
the features of a beautiful face ? What then 
must be our pleasure in those heavenly 
mansions, to contemplate purity, and 

TRUTH, AND KINDNESS, AND BENEVOLENCE, HO 

longer in mouldering forms of clay, but per- 
sonified in glorious and incorruptible bodies, j 
restored to what had been lost by the diso- 
bedience of our common ancestor, and in- 
creasing in splendour and perfection to all 



OF OLD AGE. 161 

eternity ? Great indeed, and beyond all ex- 
pression, is the difference between such a 
state of intellectual happiness, and the sen- 
sual Paradise of Mahomet ; and looking to 
the elevating and spiritualising of our kindly 
affections, as the means of unceasing grati- 
fication, futile is that Philosophy — (1 speak 
not of the disgusting sensuality of Epicurus, 
but of the more elevated Doctrine of the 
Portico) — which, hopeless to regulate the 
passions and affections of man, has attempt- 
ed to extinguish them ; and instead of pu- 
rifying the human heart, has endeavoured 
to deprive it of all its greatest and most 
valuable enjoyments, — of love, joy, sympa- 
thy, HOPE, AND GRATITUDE \ producing, UOt 

the beauty of order or the calm of tranquil- 
lity, but the solitude of inaction and the 
dreary stillness of death. The reverse of all 
this is to be found in the Philosophy op 
Revelation ; which leaves in full energy 
and vigour the nobler passions, the kindly 
M 



162 THE COMFORTS 

affections, and all our most exquisite feel- 
ings, — implicated as they are with a thou- 
sand tender connections of Wife, Parent, 
Child, Brother, Sister, Relative, and Friend, 
— given us for the noblest and dearest pur- 
poses by our omniscient Creator ; and at 
the same time that it divests them of every 
base and selfish motive, directs them to a 
warm and disinterested love of God and 
man ; enabling them, according to the ex- 
tent of their power, to promote the glory of | 
the one, and the happiness of the other,— 
and diffusing the effects of their kindness in 
concentric circles ; commencing with their 
nearest relatives and friends, and extending 
to the whole race of man, and from thence 
to every part of animated existence. — Con- ; 
nected with these benevolent feelings, will 
be another source of happiness, when we • 
exchange this mortal and corruptible, for a 
glorified and immortal body ; — our re-union 
with all those friends, whose virtue and 



OF OLD AGE. 163 

piety make their friendship truly desirable. 
Then may I hope again to rejoin my beloved 
wife ; of whose value a separation of near 
twenty years has only made me more sensi- 
ble, and whom from thenceforth I shall call 
— for ever, — ever mine. We shall then too, 
be united to the pious and virtuous of all 
ages, and of all countries, We shall come 
unto Mount Sion, and unto the City of the 
living God, the heavenly Jerusalem ; and 
to an innumerable company of Angels,— 
to the general Assembly and Church of the 
first born, which are written in heaven— 
and to God, the Judge of all,— and to the 
spirits of just men made perfect, — and to 
Jesus, the Mediator of the new Covenant. 
We shall approach the throne of him, who 
liveth for ever and ever ; who is worthy to 
receive glory and honour, and power : for 
he hath created all things, and for his plea- 
sure they are, and were created. We shall 
then all unite in that new song, u Worthy 



164 THE COMFORTS 



a 



IS THE LAMB, THAT WAS SLAIN, TO RECEIVE 
" POWER, AND RICHES, AND WISDOM, AND 
U STRENGTH, AND HONOUR, AND GLORY, AND 

"blessing ;" saying with all nations, and 
kindreds, and people, and tongues, "Sal- 
ivation to our God which sitteth upon 
" the throne, and to the lamb, for ever 

" AND EVER." 



NOTES, 
AND BIOGRAPHICAL 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 



NOTES 
AND BIOGRAPHICAL 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Page*, line 10. 

Bishop Hough was born on the i2th of April 
1651, and educated at Magdalen College, Oxford, 
of which he was afterwards a Fellow. Mr. 
Hough took orders in 1675 ; and in 1678, was 
appointed Domestic Chaplain to the Duke of Or- 
mond, then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. After 
his return, he was in 1685 made Prebendary of 
Worcester, and Rector of Tempsfordin the county 



168 HOUGH. 

of Bedford. Upon the vacancy of the Presi- 
dentship of Magdalen College in 1687, James the 
Second, by Letters mandatory to the Fellows, re- 
commended Mr. Farmer, a Papist, and otherwise 
disqualified by the Statutes of the College. With 
this mandate the Fellows did not comply : but 
elected Mr. Hough ; who was admitted and sworn 
in by Dr. Mews, Bishop of Winchester, the Visi- 
tor of the College. The King's Commissioners 
for Ecclesiastical affairs declared the election 
void: and (there being objections to Farmer's 
character) the King recommended another Papist, 
Dr. Parker, Bishop of Oxford and Dean of Christ 
Church, to the Presidentship. This being also 
unanimously declined by the Fellows, on the 
ground that the office was full and the election 
contrary to the Statutes of the College, the King 
appointed three commissioners specially to visit 
the College ; before whom Dr. Hough, attended 
by the Fellows, appeared and defended with great 
firmness their collegiate rights. Notwithstanding 
his protest against their proceedings, and his ap- 
peal to the King in his Courts of Justice, they 
proceeded to deprive him of the Presidentship, 
and to remove him by force from his situation in 



HOUGH. 169 

the College. On twenty-five of the Fellows re- 
fusing to subscribe their submission to the illegal 
acts of the commissioners, they were in Novem- 
ber 1687, deprived of their Fellowships, for dis- 
obedience and contempt of the Royal Autho- 
rity ; and declared incapable of any ecclesiastical 
dignity, benefice, or promotion. In the October 
following, however, the immediate terror of the 
invasion of the Prince of Orange, produced a 
Royal Mandate, for restoring Mr. Hough and the 
Fellows to their offices. After the Revolution, 
Dr. Hough was appointed Bishop of Oxford in 
3 690, and in 1692 was promoted to the Bishop- 
ric of Lichfield and Coventry. On the death of 
Archbishop Tenison in 17 15, he was offered the 
Archbishopric of Canterbury, which he very mo* 
destly declined ; but two years after, he accepted 
the See of Worcester, to which he was translated 
on the death of Bishop Lloyd, hi I] 02 the Bi- 
shop had married Lady Lee, the widow of Sir 
Charles Lee ; with whom he lived very happily 
twenty years* She died in November 1722, deeply 
and permanently regretted by him. His Life has 
been lately published, with some of his letters, by 
M«£Wilmot. From this Work, I have selected 



170 HOUGH. 

the anecdotes and circumstances, which I have 
referred to in the preceding dialogue. The Bi- 
shop died on the 8th of May 1743 in his ninety- 
third year. 

Page 8, line 7- 

Bishop Gibson had been at that time employ- 
ed in compiling and publishing, in three folio 
volumes, a collection of the Treatises against 
Popery, with prefaces and observations of his own. 
— He was born in 1669, at Knipe in Westmor- 
land ; was admitted a Servitor at Queen's College 
Oxford, and some time afterwards appointed do- 
mestic Chaplain to Archbishop Tenison. He 
was a man of great erudition, and author of many 
learned and pious tracts ; and among others of an 
excellent and useful explanation of the Sacrament 
of the Lord's Supper, and of the duty of frequent 
attendance on it. In 1713 he produced his Co- 
dex, containing an accurate and judicious com- 
mentary on the English ecclesiastical law. 
Soon after the death of Archbishop Tenison in 
171 5, he was consecrated Bishop of Lincoln \ and 
in 1720, he succeeded Dr. Robinson in the See 



LYTTELTON, 171 

of London. He was from principle a zealous 
friend of the Church establishment. For some 
years, Sir Robert Walpole had placed in his hands 
the conduct of ecclesiastical affairs in England ; 
until, in 1736, he very strongly opposed Sir Ro- 
bert's Bill for the relief of the Quakers. The See 
of Canterbury was offered him in 174/: but 
he declined it on account of his age and infirmi- 
ties, and died in the beginning of the next year, at 
the age of seventy-nine 

Page 8, line 8. 

Mr, Lyttelton, afterwards George Lord Lyt- 
telton, was the eldest son of Sir Thomas Lyttel- 
ton* He was born in 1709, and educated at Eton 
and Christ Church ; in both of which he was dis- 
tinguished for talent and application. In 1728, he 
set off on his travels ; and on his return to En- 
gland obtained a seat in Parliament, where he 
took a leading part in the opposition to Sir Robert 
Walpole. In 1741 he married Lord Fortescue's 
sister, Miss Lucy Fortescue, whose death in 1747, 
he made the subject of a laboured and pathetic 
monody to her memory. In 1749 he married for 



172 



LYTTELTON. 



his second wife, the daughter of Sir Robert Rick 
On the resignation of Walpole in the year 1744, 
he came into office as a Lord of the Treasury ; 
was appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer in 
1755, and created a Peer in 1757. He died in 
August 1773, aged 64. — In the early part of his 
life, he had been led to entertain doubts of the 
truth of Christianity: but upon a serious investi- 
gation of this most important of all questions, he 
became a zealous believer; and in 1747> publish- 
ed his " Observations on the conversion and apos- 
6i tleship of St. Paul." His father's letter to him 
on the subject of this work is very interesting: u I 
" have read your religious treatise with infinite 
"pleasure and satisfaction. The stile is fine and 
"clear ; the arguments close, cogent, and irresis- 
tible. May the King of Kings, whose glorious 
" cause you have so well defended, reward your 
" pious labours, and grant that I maybe found 
" worthy, through the merits of Jesus Christ, to 
"be an eye-witness of that happiness, which I 
"don't doubt he will bountifully bestow upon you ! 
" In the mean time, I shall never cease glorifying 
" God, for having endowed you with such useful 
" talents, and given me so good a son. Your 



LYTTELTON. 173 

" affectionate father, Thomas Lyttelton." — His 
death was exemplary ; and on his part expected 
with calm and devout resignation. Two days be- 
fore he died he said to his physician, — " When I 
t€ first set out in the world, I had friends who en- 
deavoured to shake my belief in the Christian 
"Religion. I saw difficulties which staggered 
"me; but I kept my mind open to conviction. 
" The evidences and doctrines of Christianity, 
" studied with attention, made me a most firm 
H and persuaded believer of the Christian Reli- 
" gion; I have made it the rule of my life, and it 
" is the ground of my future hopes. I have erred 
H and sinned ; but have repented, and never 
"indulged any vicious habit. In politics, and 
H public life, I have made the public good the 
"rule of my conduct. I never gave counsels, 
" which I did not at the time think th best. I 
"have seen that I was sometimes in the wrong, but 
"I did not err designedly. I have endeavoured, in 
"private life, to do all the good in my power; 
"and never for a moment, could indulge malici- 
"ous or unjust designs upon any person wliatso- 
" ever." To his son in law, Lord Valentia (the 
present Earl of Mountnorris) he said, on taking 



174 GIBSON. 

leave of him,— " Be good, be virtuous, my lord. 
" You must come to this." 



Page 24, line 10. 

Bishop Gibson, in his first pastoral letter, has 
thus enumerated the evidences of revealed reli- 
gion. — c There are many sorts of proofs, by which 
c the truth of Christianity is supported; as ], 

C TYPES. 2, PROPHECIES. 3, The GENERAL EX- 
PECTATION of Christ's coming at that time. 4, 
c The miracles he wrought. 5, His predictions 
c of his own death and resurrection, and of many 
c other events which were punctually fulfilled ; 
'and 6, The speedy and wonderful propagation 
e of the gospel after his death/ — The Bishop 
might have added the state of the Jews, since the 
predicted destruction of Jerusalem, scattered and 
dispersed for a period of more than seventeen hun- 
dred years among all nations; yet still existing 
and known as a distinct people, and minutely ad- 
hering to the ceremonial law of Moses. — The 
passage in the dialogue, to which this note refers, 
is to be found in Mr, Wilberforce's Practical 
View. 



MARLBOROUGH. Iy! 



Page 35, line 19. 

John Churchill Duke of Marlborough, 

eldest son of Sir Winston Churchill, was bom in 
1650. He entered very early into the army ; and 
served with distinction under the Duke of Mon- 
mouth, in the French Campaign against the 
Dutch; in 16J2. He was created an English 
Peer in 1685 ; but on measures being adopted, 
hostile to civil and religious liberty, he withdrew 
from Gourmand afterwards, in 1688, joined the 
Prince of Orange. King William created him 
Earl of Marlborough, and appointed him Com- 
mander in Chief of the English forces in Hol- 
land : but in a. short time after, he was disgraced, 
and committed to the Tower for high treason. Of 
this charge he was almost immediately acquitted ; 
and was restored by the King. to confidence and 
employment. On the accession of Queen Anne, 
in March 1/01, he was declared Captain General 
of her Majesty's forces, and also of those of the 
States General. The War with France was pro- 
claimed in May 1/02 ; in which he commanded 
with great success, and was rewarded by the title 



1*J6 MARLBOROUGH. 

of Duke of Marlborough. In 1704, he undertook, 
by the Queen's command, the defence of Germa- 
ny ; and being joined by Prince Eugene, saved 
the Empire, defeating the French and Bavarians 
in a signal victory at Blenheim ; their Com- 
mander, Marshal Tallard, being taken prisoner, 
with the loss of 40,000 veteran troops. He after- 
wards defeated the French at Ramillies. This 
was followed by other victories and by the submis- 
sion of several strong towns and fortresses. In 
October 1706, the French made proposals for 
Peace ; which were renewed in the beginning of 
1709, but not being agreed to, he again defeated 
the French army, under Marshal Villars, at Mal~ 
plaquet. In 17 H, having lost the friendship and 
confidence of the Queen, he and the Dutchess re- 
signed their employments, and went abroad in 
1712. He returned very soon after the Queen's 
death, which happened on the first of August, 
1714. The rest of his life he spent in retire- 
ment; and died on the 16th June, 1722, in his 
73rd year. 



SOMERS. 177 



Page 37, line 13. 



Lord Somers was born at Worcester in 1652; 
educated at a private school in Staffordshire, and 

admitted a Gentleman Commoner at Trinity Got* 

- 

lege, Oxford. He was of the Middle Temple, 
where he continued his literary pursuits, at the 
same time applying very assiduously to the study 
of the law. In 1683 he was counsel for Lord 
Gray and others, who were prosecuted by the 
Crown for a riot ; and in 1688, Counsel for the 
seven Bishops. In the convention of 1689, he 
represented his native city of Worcester ; and was 
one of the Managers for the House of Commons, 
on the conference with the House of Lords. Soon 
after the accession of William and Mary, he was 
appointed Solicitor General, received the honour 
of knighthood, and took a leading part in the de- 
bate on the Bill for confirming the acts of the 
convention. In April 1692 he was made Attorney 
General, and soon after Lord Keeper; and in 169/, 
he was appointed Lord Chancellor, and elevated to 
the Peerage by the title of Lord Somers, Baron of 
Evesham. To support his title, the King granted 
N 



178 SOMERS. 

him the Manors of Ryegate and Howlegh, toge- 
ther with £2100, per annum out of his Fee-farm 
Rents. In 1700 he was removed from his ap- 
pointment, and in the next year impeached of 
high crimes and misdemeanours by the House of 
Commons, but on his trial acquitted by the House 
of Lords. He then devoted himself to science 
and literature, and was soon after elected President 
of the Royal Society. In 1706, sometime after 
the accession of Queen Anne, he projected and 
proposed the union between England and Scot- 
land. He was made Lord President of the Coun- 
cil in 1708; but in 1710 removed upon the 
change of the Ministry. He died in April 1716? 
at the age of sixty- four. — He was one of the 
first, who brought Milton's u Paradise Lost" from 
obscurity into notice. Few men have been more 
praised and respected than Lord Somers. c He 
'was (says Mr. Horace Walpole) one of those di- 
* vine men, who, like a Chapel in a palace, re- 
'main unprofaned, while all the rest is tyranny* 
c corruption, and folly. All the traditional ac- 
c counts of him, the historians of the last age, and 
c its best authors, represent him as the most ira- 
€ corrupt lawyer and the honestest Statesman ; as 



WREN, 1/9 

c a master orator, a genius of the finest taste, and 
* as a patriot of the noblest and most extensive 
* views ; as a man who dispensed blessings by his 
life, and planned them for posterity/ 

Page byline 12. 

Sir Christopher Wren was distinguished as 
a Mathematician and an Architect. He was born 
in 1632; and became the Savilian Professor of 
Astronomy at Oxford, where he had received his 
education. In 1668, he was appointed Surveyor 
General of the Royal Works, which office he 
held for fifty years. The Theatre at Oxford, 
Trinity College Library, Greenwich Hospital, 
the Steeple of Bow-Church, and St, Stephen's 
Walbrook, are among the examples of his skill in 
architectureo He built 53 churches in the metro- 
polis : but his great work was the Cathedral of St. 
Paul's; the first stone of which was laid in Jun£ 
] 675, and the body finished, and the cross erected 
by him, in 17 11. He died in February 1723, at 
the age of ninety one, 



180 WALLER. 



Page 38, line 16. 

Mr. Waller was born in 1605 ; received his 
education at Eton, from whence he went to King's 
College, Cambridge. He took his seat in the 
House of Commons, before the age of seventeen. 
In 1640, he joined the Parliament against the 
Court ; but on matters being pushed to extremi- 
ties, he engaged in an attempt in the King's fa- 
vour : and being discovered, purchased his life by 
great concessions, — being expelled the House, 
imprisoned for a year, and allowed to quit the 
kingdom on payment of a fine of ten thousand 
pounds. He then retired to France ; from 
whence he afterwards returned to England with 
permission of Cromwell, and was in a degree of 
favour. On the Restoration, he was kindly recei- 
ved by Charles the Second, and resumed his seat 
In Parliament, when he became (as Bishop Bur- 
net expresses it) c the delight of the House, and 
6 though old, said the liveliest things of any 
c among them.' Being present once, when the 
Duke of Buckingham was paying his court to the 
King, by arguing against Revelation, Mr. Waller 



NEWTON. 181 

said u My Lord, I am a great deal older than 
"your Grace; and have, I believe, heard more 
" arguments for atheism, than ever your grace 
"did; but I have lived long enough to see there 
"is nothing in them : and so, I hope, your Grace 
"will." He died in 1687, in his eighty-third 
year. 

Page 38 line 19. 

Sir Isaac Newton was born on Christmas- 
day 1642 ; educated at the Grammar School at 
Grantham, and entered at Trinity College Cam- 
bridge in 1660, where he very soon distinguished 
himself. In 1664, at the age of twenty- two, he 
produced his new method of infinite Series and 
Fluxions, and soon after, his Theory of Light 
and Colours. In 1669, he was appointed Mathe- 
matical Professor of the University. In February 
1672, he published his Theory of Light and Co- 
lours, and in 1687, his Principia, and his ma- 
thematical principles of " Natural History/' He 
was elected of the Convention Parliament in 
1688, and in 1696, appointed Warden, and in 
1699, Master of the Mint. In 1703, he was 



182 CLEMENT THE TWELFTH. 

chosen President of the Royal Society ; which 
situation, as well as the office of Master of the 
Mint, he held till his death. In 1704, he pub- 
lished his method of Fluxions. In 1725, he was 
engaged in a scientific contest with Leibnitz, 
which, in spite of his desire to avoid disputes, ter- 
minated only with his valuable life, in March 
1727, in his eighty-fifth year. 

Page 39, line 18, 

Clement the Twelfth, of the Corsini family 
at Florence, was born 7th of April 1652, and 
made Cardinal in May 1706. In August 1730, 
then in his seventy-ninth year, he was elected 
Pope. On his election, and before his Corona- 
tion, several of the Cardinals offered him advice 
on the state of public affairs, to which he answer- 
ed shortly, " It is for the Cardinals to elect the 
" Pope, and for the Pope to choose his 
" Ministers/' 

Page 40, line 8, 
Marshal Villars war born in May 1651. 



VILLARS. 183 

He served under Marshals Turenne, Conde, 
Schomberg and Crequy ; and distinguished him- 
self so much, as to obtain a regiment at the age 
of twenty-three- During the wars of Lewis the 
XIV. he continued in very active service : and in 
die short intervals of peace in 1679 and 1696, 
went as Ambassador to Vienna. On the death of 
his Father in 1698, he succeeded to the Duke- 
dom of Villars : he had been appointed Field 
Marshal in 1689, and Marshal of France in 
1702. In 1709, and the two succeeding years, he 
was opposed to the Duke of Marlborough by his 
sovereign, who counted on the circumstance of Vil- 
lars never having been beaten; and though he was 
defeated by the Duke at Malplaquet, yet he suppor- 
ted the contest so ably, as to induce the English 
Court to treat for peace ; which was signed at 
Utrecht, in April 1713. In October 1733, when 
the Marshal was in his eighty-third year, he was 
solicited to take the command of the French army 
in Italy, in defence of the Sardinian territory ; 
and was appointed Marshal General of France, 
In ten days after he reached Turin on the sixth 
of November; where he joined the King of Sar- 
dinia, and proceeded with such vigour and expe- 



184 



VILLARS. 



dition against the enemy, as to drive the imperial 
army out of the Milanese, the Lodisan, and part 
of the Dutchy of Mantua, in the course of the 
next month, December. The Marshal then pro- 
posed to pursue their success, as the means of 
keeping the enemy in check, and preventing his 
recovering himself. The King of Sardinia, how- 
ever, satisfied with his success, withheld his con- 
currence. As they were examining the position 
of the imperial army, being at a distance from 
their own and with a small escort, they found 
themselves exposed to the attack of a much lar- 
ger party of the enemy. The King expressed his 
fear of an ambuscade ; when Villars cried out, 
" II ne faut songer qu'a sortir de ce pas. La vraie 
" valeur ne trouve rien d'impossible. II faut par 
"notre exemple, donner du courage k ceux qui 
" pourroient manque r." Saying this, the Marshal 
charged the enemy at the head of his little troop : 
they fled astonished, leaving fifty men dead on the 
field, and thirty prisoners. The King said, he had 
not been surprised at his courage, but at his vi- 
gour and activity* He replied, " Sire, ce sont 
" les dernieres ^tincelles de ma vie, car je crois, 
" que c'est ici la derniere operation de guerre, ou 



FLEURY. 1S5 

"je me trouverai." — Disgusted with the inactivity 
and ingratitude of the Sardinian Monarchy he so- 
licited his recal ; and quitting the camp on the 
27th of May 1734, went to Turin ; where, a few 
days after, he died, on the 17th of June 1734, in 
his eighty-fourth year. 

Page 44, line 12. 

Cardinal Fleury was the son of a receiver 
of tithes in Languedoc, and born in 1653. He 
was educated under the Jesuits, in the school of 
Harcourt, where he soon distinguished himself by 
his talent and address. In 1 668, at the age of 
fifteen, he was appointed a Canon of Montpellier ; 
and, five years after, Chaplaiu to the Queen, and 
on her death, Chaplain to Lewis the XIV. In 
1689, he was selected to be Subpreceptor to the 
Duke of Burgundy and his two brothers, Fenelon 
being the Preceptor. He was promoted to the 
See of Frejus in 1698, and on the death of Lewis 
the XIV. in 1715, became Preceptor to his Sove- 
reign Lewis XV. over whose mind he ever preser- 
ved a great degree of personal influence. In June 
1726, he succeeded the Duke of Bourbon, as 



186 WALPOLE. 

Prime Minister ; and was soon after nominated a 
Cardinal, being then in his 74th year. With the 
most conciliating manners, he was sincere and 
honourable in his conduct ; and for a period of 
fourteen years, from 1726 to 1740, he had the 
happiness of contributing very essentially to the 
Peace and prosperity of France, The three last 
years of his administration were unfortunate. On 
the death of the Emperor Charles the Sixth in 
1740, without male issue, a war ensued respecting 
the imperial succession ; the calamitous events of 
which preyed on the Cardinal's mind, and occa- 
sioned his death in 1743, at the advanced age of 
ninety. 

Page 45, line 2. 

Sir Robert Walpole, third son of Robert 
Walpole esquire of Houghton in the County of 
Norfolk, was born in August 1676 : came into 
Parliament in 1701, and united with the Whig 
Party. In 1705, he was appointed Secretary at 
War, and in 1709, Treasurer of the Navy; but 
on the change of ministry in 17 10, was dismissed 
from office 5 and an inquiry into his conduct as 



SAN-CROFT. 1 $7 

Secretary at War, instituted by the new adminis- 
tration; which, in January 1712* prevailed so far 
as to expel him the House, and commit him to 
tlie Tower. In February 1714, on a new Parlia- 
ment being called, he was re-elected; on the ac- 
cession of George I. in September 1714, he was 
appointed Paymaster of the Forces ; and, in Oc- 
tober 1715* first Lord of the Treasury and Chan- 
cellor of the Exchequer. On the removal of 
Lord Townshend, as Secretary of State, in De- 
cember 17 16, Sir Robert Walpole resigned his 
situation at the head of the Treasury \ to which 
offices they were afterwards both restored in April 
1721. From that time he continued in full power 
as Prime Minister, for 21 years, until 1742 ; 
when the Opposition prevailing 'against him in 
Parliament, he resigned all his appointments, was 
created Earl of Orford, and retired to his seat at 
Houghton; where he died in 1745, in his 7lst 
year. 

Page 47, line 16. 

Dr. William Sancroft was born in 1616. 
In 1642, he was elected Fellow of Emanuel Col- 



188 SANCROFT. 

lege Cambridge ; from which, in 1649, he was 
ejected as a loyalist, for refusing to take the en- 
gagement. He then went abroad, where he con- 
tinued till the Restoration. On his return he was 
in 1662, elected Master of Emanuel College; and 
in 1664, promoted to the Deanery of York ; and 
soon after, to the Deanery of St. Paul's. He as- 
sisted in revising the Liturgy, in 1661 ; and after- 
wards contributed very liberally to the rebuilding 
of St. Paul's Cathedral, after the great fire in 
1666. He was, in 1677* unexpectedly advanced 
by Charles II. to the See of Canterbury. In the 
reign of James II. he took a very decided part 
against the measures, adopting for the re-establish- 
ment of Popery ; and upon the King's issuing a 
declaration in favour of the Papists, in June 1688, 
he joined with six: of the Bishops, in a petition to 
the King, assigning the reasons why they could 
not cause it to be read in churches. For this pe- 
tition, the Archbishop and the six Bishops were 
committed to the Tower, and tried for a misde- 
meanor : but acquitted. He soon after brought 
forward a plan for the relief of Protestant dissent- 
ers. He was pressed by King James , to sign the 
Declaration against the Prince of Orange: but 



sancroft. 189 

he declined it, and ia December 1688, joined with 
the Lords in the Declaration to the Prince. When 
the Prince came to St. James's, however, the 
Archbishop did not wait on him, nor did he at- 
tend the Convention Parliament. In this he was 
influenced by a conscientious regard to the oath 
of allegiance, which he had taken to James the II.; 
which determined him to refuse taking any new 
oaths to William and Mary. For this refusal he 
was, with seven other Bishops, deprived ia Febru- 
ary 1689; and being ejected from Lambeth by 
process of law, he retired to his paternal estate of 
£50. a year in Suffolk ; where he lived in great 
seclusion until his death in 169S, at the age of 77- 
Dr. Turner, Dr. Kenn, and Dr. White (three of 
the six Bishops committed with him to the Tower) 
were also of the number of those, deprived at 
the same time with Sancroft. Lord Aylesbury 
calling at his lodgings, just after his deprivation, 
was very much affected by seeing that he had no 
attendant, but was obliged to open the door him- 
self. " Oh, my good Lord," cried Sancroft, iC ra- 
" ther rejoice with me ; for now I live again. v 
The Rev. Dr. Wagstaff, who attended Mr. San- 
croft in his last illness, observed that any man 



190 LEIGHTON. 

might read the pleasure in his breast, by the con- 
stant serenity and cheerfulness of his aspect. f It 
c was indeed (he adds) an unspeakable comfort 
€ and satisfaction to us, and we reflected on the 
'mighty power of a well-spent life. Drawing near 
c his end, he said, " that his profession was real 
cc and conscientious ; and that if the same thing 
"was to be acted over again, he would quit all 
"he had in the world, rather than vio- 
"late his conscience." 

Page 50, line 9. 

There was a contemporary of Dr. San croft, a 
Scotch Archbishop, who in times of the severest 
trials and difficulties, when contending parties al- 
ternately persecuted one another, exhibited the 
most amiable example of every christian virtue. 
I mean the excellent Archbishop Leighton, 
who (says Bishop Burnet) had great quickness of 
parts, a lively apprehension, a charming vivacity 
of thought and expression, a perfect knowledge of 
the learned languages, was well versed in theolo- 
gical learning, and particularly in the holy Scrip- 
tures. He spent some years in France, and spoke 



LEIGKTQN. 191 

that language like one born there, On his return 
from abroad in 1641, he undertook the ministry 
of the parish of Newbottle near Edinburgh. His 
preaching had a great sublimity both of thought 
and expression, and the grace and gravity of his 
pronunciation was such, that few heard him 
without very sensible emotion. In 1648, being 
attached to the royal cause, he preached with 
great freedom against the injustice and violence 
which then prevailed ; and when, at the annual 
Synod, the ministers were asked " whether they 
ie preached to the times," he replied, " For God's 
" sake, when all my brethren preach to the times,, 
''suffer one poor priest to preach about eternity." 
He was so generally esteemed, notwithstanding 
the party rage which then existed, that he conti- 
nued undisturbed, until he thought proper volun- 
tarily to withdraw from his situation. He soon 
after accepted the Mastership of the College of 
Edinburgh; where he presided ten years, until 
upon the restoration of Episcopacy in Scotland in 
1661, he was thought a proper person to give cre- 
dit and success to the appointment. He was per- 
suaded to accept the little Bishopric of Dun- 
blane, but he refused to join Sharp and the other 



192 LEIGHTON. 

Bishops, in their public and pompous entry into 
Edinburgh, or in the measures they were adopt- 
ing ; and when Archbishop Sharp, said, " How 
" can these men expect moderation from us, when 
" they themselves imposed their covenant *vitli so 
a much zeal and tyranny on others ?" Leighton 
answered, " Let us treat them with gentleness, 
"and shew them the difference between their 
u principles and ours*" — -Finding he could not 
mitigate these violences, he went to Court in 1665 
to resign his Bishopric, saying to the King, f * the 
" measures were so oppressive, that he could not 
Cf concur in them, were it even to plant Christia- 
" nity in an Infidel Country ; much less when it 
"went only to alter Church Government." His 
remonstrances produced their effect ; the mea- 
sures of Government w r ere changed, and the King 
prevailed with him to continue in his Bishopric. 
— In 1669 he was offered the Archbishopric of 
Glasgow, which he declined. However, he was 
induced to accept it the next year, when lie en- 
deavoured to make peace between the Church and 
the Presbyterians; but having failed in the at- 
tempt, and the severities being increased, he asked 
leave to resign his Archbishopric. His request 



LEIGHTON. 193 

was not granted ; but he received a promise that, 
if he did not change his mind, he should be al- 
lowed to resign within the year. About twelve 
months after, in 1673, he retired from his Archbi- 
shopribk into Sussex, devoting the residue of his 
life to charity and devotion. He used often to 
say," that if he were to choose a place to die in, it 
u should be an inn ; it looking like a pilgrim's 
" going home, to whom this world was all as an 
u inn, and who was weary of th noise and confu- 
"sion in it: that the officious tenderness and 
"care of friends was an entanglement to a dying 
u man ; and that the unconcerned attendance of 
" those that could be procured in such a place, 
" would give less disturbance." — He came to 
London, in 1684, at the earnest request of his 
friend Burnet, and for a pious and benevolent 
purpose. He was then something more than se- 
venty. His friend observed on his appearing so 
fresh and well, and so active in body and mind : 
he answered, that he was then very near the end 
of his work and his journey. The next day, ap- 
parently from a cold caught on the road, he was 
taken ill. His disease was a pleurisy ; and he ex- 
pired the day after, without pang or convulsion. 

O 



Vdi ARRANGEMENT OF TIME. 

His death took place at an inn, in Warwick Lane, 
agreeably to the wish he had frequently expressed. 
My veneration for this primitive Bishop, has 
induced me to collect these incidents of his life ; 
affording an example of genius, talent, science 
and literature, being conducive to a pious and use- 
ful life, and to a happy old age, cheered by the 
bright hopes of immortality. 

Page 54, line 4. 

As a companion to Pliny's Diary of Spurinna, 
the reader may perhaps like to peruse the follow- 
ing account o( Archbishop Fenelon's arrange- 
ment of his day, given in the abridged history of 
his Life, by Mr. Butler ; — He allowed himself a 
short time for slt^ep, rose at a very early hour, gave 
some time to prayer and pious meditation, and 
then arranged with one of his grand vicars, the 
employments of the day. Except on Saturdays, 
or on festivals particularly celebrated in some 
Church of his diocese, when he officiated there, 
he said n.ass every day in his private chapel. On 
Saturdays, he said it in his Metropolitan Church : 
and during the; rest of that morning heard indis- 



ARRANGEMENT OF TIME. 195 

criminately the confessions of all who presented 
themselves. Till nine o'clock, he was visible to 
those only, who attended by appointment : after 
that hour till he dined, his doors were open to all 
persons, who professed to have real business with 
him. At noon, he dined : his table was suitable 
to his rank ; but he himself was extremely abste- 
mious, eating only the simplest and lightest food, 
and of that very sparingly. All his chaplains were 
admitted to his table. It was his general rule to 
shew them the greatest respect : if he sent them 
into the country, on any business of his diocese, it 
was always in one of his own carriages, and with 
one of his own attendants ; that the respect which 
he shewed them, might conciliate to them the 
general respect of his flock. Both before and af- 
ter dinner, he himself said grace with seriousness, 
but without affectation. During dinner, the con- 
versation was general ; and strangers were struck 
equally with his ease and politeness. After din- 
ner, all the company retired to a large apartment 
for about an hour : there the same style of con- 
versation was continued ; but a small table was 
sometimes placed before Fenelon, on which he 
signed his name to papers, which required imme- 



IS& ARRANGEMENT OF TlM'Z. 

3iate dispatch ; and he sometimes took that op- 
portunity, of giving directions to his chaplains on 
the affairs of the diocese. An hour was spent in 
this manner ; after which, unless he was prevent- 
ed by urgent business or necessary visits, he lived 
to himself till nine o'clock : then he supped, and 
at ten the whole of his household assembled, and 
one of his chaplains said night prayers; at the 
end of them, the Archbsihop rose, and gave 
his general blessing to the assembly. — The only 
recreation of Fenelon, was a walk in his garden or 
in the open country. His letters, like those of Ci- 
cero, often express the satisfaction which he felt 
in retiring, after the agitation and hurry of busi- 
ness, to the simple and interesting scenes of na- 
ture. By their stillness and calmness, any ruffle of 
the day was quickly smoothed ; and his mind, 
wearied by study or business, soon recovered its 
freshness and elasticity. There too, his piety was 
often invigorated. "The country (the Archbishop 
u says in one of his letters) delights me. In the 
^ midst of it, I find God's holy peace. Oh, what 
' r excellent company is God ! with him one never 
" is alone." — In his country walks with his friends, 
Ids conversation was particularly instructive and 



QUEEN MA &Y. If) 7 

pleasing: this circumstance is frequently mention- 
ed by his contemporaries. u No person (says the 
" Duke de St. Simon) ever possessed in a higher 
"degree tl an Fenelon, the happy talent of easy, 
"Kght, and ever decent conversation : it was per- 
" fectly enchanting. His mild, uniform piety 
" troubled no one, and was respected by bIL* — ■ 
Fenelon passed his last eighteen years at his dio- 
cese in his official duties, and in the exercise of 
Christian charity and kindness ; and died as he. 
lived, respected and beloved. 

Page 68,11716 3* 

Queen Mary, wife of William the III. was 
the eldest daughter of James II. She was born on 
the 30th of April 1662, and married to William, 
then Prince of Orange, on the 4th of November 
1677- In cons quence of the Revolution, w T hich 
seated her husband on the throne of her father, 
her situation was rendered peculiarly delicate and 
distressing ; particularly during the war in Ire- 
land, wl en her husband and fa her were person- 
ally opposed to each other, and while she was 
agitated by ardent wishes for the success of the 



198 DEATH OF A FRtEND 

one, and by extreme solicitude for the safety of 
the other. Her feelings are beautifully expressed 
in the letters which she addressed to her husband 
at that time. In her congratulations to him on 
the victory of the Boyne, she says, " When I 
" heard the joyful news from Mr. Butler, I was in 
4i pain to know what was become of the late King, 
"and durst not ask him. But when Lord Not- 
tingham came, I did venture to do it, and had 
" the satisfaction to know he was safe. I know, I 
" need not beg you to let him be taken care of, 
" for I am confident you will for your own sake. 
"Yet, add that to all your kindness, and for my 
w sake let people know, you would have no hurt 
"come to his person." She died of the small- 
pox on the 28th of December, 1694, in the 
thirty-third year of her age, greatly beloved and 
regretted. 

Page 72, line 10. 

This was a tribute to the memory of an ever 
dear and regretted friend, who died on the 6th' of 
June, 1813. It was written immediately after 
her death, and contains as correct a delineation of 



CORNARO. 199 

her general character, as an unreserved intimacy 
of above thirty years could supply. 

Page 83, line 14* 

Cornaro was born at Venice in 1464, being 
the descendant of one of the noble families of that 
State. In early life he is said to have injured his 
health by intemperance, and by indulging his pro- 
pensity to anger , so as by the age of thirty-five 
to have greatly impaired his constitution $ but 
that when he perceived the bad effects of his un- 
regulated passions and appetites, he succeeded in 
acquiring such a command over himself, and in 
adopting such a system of temperance, as to reco- 
ver his health and vigour, and to enjoy life to an 
extreme old age. He died at Padua in 15GG, 
while he was sitting in his arm chair, being then 
above an hundred years old. " Such (says this 
amiable and happy old man, in the first of four 
Essays on a sober and temperate life) are the ef- 
fects of this sober life, that at my present age of 
eighty-three, I have been able to write a very en- 
tertaining comedy, abounding with innocent mirth 
and pleasant jests. This species of composition 



200 CORNARO. 

(he observes) is generally the child and offspring 
of youth, as tragedy is of old age ; the former be- 
ing by its facetious, and sprightly turn, suited to 
the bloom of life, and the latter by its gravity, 
adapted to riper years. " — The mild and equable 
temper, which he acquired by resolution and per- 
severance appears to have had a great share in 
the health and vivacity, which marked his latter 
course of life. Speaking of himself at the age of 
86, he says, Ci I was born with a choleric disposi- 
tion, insomuch that there was no living with me ; 
but I took notice of it, and considered, that a per- 
son swayed by his passion, must at certain times 
be no better than a madman ; I mean, at those 
times, when he suffers his passions to predominates 
because he then renounces his reason and under- 
standing. I therefore resolved to make my cho- 
leric disposition give way to reason ; so that now, 
though born choleric, I never suffer anger entirely 

to overcome me." In the account which this 

amiable old man gives of the occupations which 
filled up his time, there is something extremely 
pleasing and interesting ; particularly, when he 
speaks of the good health and spirits which he 
enjoys, *nd observes how gay, pleasant, and good 



CORNARO. 201 

humoured he was ; how free from every pertur- 
bation of mind, and every disagreeable thought ; 
in lieu of which, joy and peace had so firmly fixed 
their residence in his bosom, as never to depart 
ftom it. — " I contrive (he continues) to spend 
every hour with the greatest delight and pleasure; 
having frequent opporunities of conversing with 
many honourable gentlemen, — men, valuable for 
their sense and good manners, their acquaintance 
with letters, and every other good quality. Then 
when I cannot enjoy their conversation, I betake 
myself to the reading of some good book. When 
I have read as much as I like, I write; endeavour- 
ing in this and in every thing else, to be of service 
to others to the utmost of my power. — My estate 
is divided by a wide and rapid branch of the river 
Brenta ; on both sides of which there is a con- 
siderable extent of country, consisting entirely of 
fertile and well cultivated fields. Besides, this 
district is now, God be praised, exceedingly well 
inhabited, which it was not at first, but rather the 
reverse ; for it was marshy, and the air so un- 
wholesome, as to make it a residence fitter for 
snakes than men. But on my draining of the 
waters, the air mended 3 and the people resorted 



202 , CORNARO. 

to it so fast, and increased to such a degree, that 
it soon acquired the perfection, in which it now 
appears : hence I may say with truth, that I have 
offered on this place an altar and temple to God, 
with souls to adore him. These are things, 
which afford me infinite pleasure, comfort, and 
satisfaction, as often as I go to see and enjoy 
them.- — At the same seasons every year, I revisit 
some of the neighbouring cities ; and enjoy such 
of my friends as live there, taking the greatest 
pleasure in their company and conversation : and 
by their means I also enjoy the conversation of 
other men of parts, who live in the same places ; 
such as architects, painters, sculptors, musicians, 
and husbandmen, with whom this age most cer- 
tainly abounds. I visit their new works ; I revi- 
sit their former ones ; and I always learn some- 
thing, which gives me satisfaction. I see the 
palaces, gardens, antiquities ; and with these, the 
squares and other public places, the churches, and 
fortifications ; leaving nothing unobserved, from 
whence I may reap either entertainment or in- 
struction. But what delights me most is in my 
journies backwards and forwards, to contemplate 
the situation and other beauties of the places I 



CORNARC. 2C3 

pass through ; some in the plain, others on hills, 
adjoining to rivers and fountains, with a great 
many fine houses and gardens.— Such are my ge- 
nuine and no tripling satisfactions : such are the 
recreations and diversions of my old age, which is 
so much the more to be valued than the old age, 
or even youth of other men ; because, being freed 
by God's grace from the perturbations of the mind 
and the infirmities of the body, it no longer expe- 
riences any of those contrary emotions, which tor- 
ment a number of young men, and many old ones 
destitute of strength and health, and every other 
blessing."— His diet consisted of bread, meat, 
eggs, and soup. He was very temperate in point 
of quantity, not exceeding in the day three quar~ 
ters of a pound of food, and a pint of new wine. 
He adopted this regimen, finding it best agree 
with his stomach, which was naturally weak. To 
others he recommends more variety and quantity 
of food, if they find it agree with them. His pre- 
ference of new w T ine, was occasioned by wine of 
more than a year old, not so well agreeing with 
his stomach.— He passed with health and comfort 
beyond his hundredth year, and died, as he had 



204 FLOYER. 

lived for hb last threescore years, exempt from 
pain and suffering* 

Page 84, line 1. 

Sir John Floyer was Physician to Queen 
Anne. He died in January 1734. — In one of the 
Bishop^s letters to Mr. Knightly, (dated from Hartle- 
bury, 4th July 1730) the following passage occurs, 
referring to this gentleman — " Sir John Floyer 
\ has been with me some weeks ; and all my 
c neighbours are surprised to see aman of eighty- 
c live, who has his memory, understanding, and 
6 all his senses good : and seems to labour under 
* no infirmity. — He is of a happy temper not to 
i be moved with what he cannot remedy ; which, 
6 I really believe, has in a great measure helped to 
preserve his health and prolong his days.' 

Page 96, line 16. 

This alludes to the operations of " the Society 
"for promoting Christian Knowledge, and of the 
u Society for the propagation of the gospel in 



BIBLE SOCIETY. 205 

u foreign parts." The recent establishment of a 
third, — " The British and Foreign Bible Society* 
—its astonishing exertion?, and its rapid increase 
and success, — will naturally recur to the reader's 
mind. In the short period of ten years, it has sup- 
plied almost every nation and language of the 
earth with the Bible. In 1805, its income was 
only equal to an expenditure of six hundred and 
ninety -one pounds. In consequence however, in 
some degree, of an ill-fooDderi jealousy and oppo- 
sition, its ncome was increased in 181 1, to more 
than LS2.000 ; and in the next y< ar (1812) to 
above L7«,000. In 1813, it exceeded Z,87,000 ; 
and in 1814 the year's receipts amounted to nearly 
one hundred thousand pounds; which have 
been applied, in conveying the word of god not 
only to our ow r n countrymen, but to every nation, 
and kindred and tongue, and people. Like the 
little eloud seen from the top of Mount Carmel, it 
has kept increasing, till it is now pouring down 
the living water, not only on the British domi- 
nions, but throughout the whole earth. Of the 
sum which I have mentioned of L 1 00,000. (the 
income of the last year 1814) above sixty thou- 
sand pounds were contributed by four hundred and 



206 CHI LLLNG WORTH. 

eighty six auxiliary and branch Societies, connect- 
ed with it in the British dominions. The publi- 
cations of the sacred Scriptures, made or promo- 
ted by the Bible Society, extend to fifty-five diffe- 
rent languages and dialects. With a pecuniary 
assistance from the Society of £28,700., there 
have been printed abroad, in the same year, 
2OO5OOO Bibles and Testaments, for the use of the 
foreign poor of every sect and denomination, and 
in every quarter of the globe. This is exclusive 
of the sum of Z,61,2l7. 18s. *]d. expended in the 
same year by the same Society, in printing Bibles 
and Testaments, for the supply of our own poor at 
home. — The existence and exertions of these 
three great societies, for purposes so benevo- 
lent and disinterested, are indeed most honourable 
to the age and country, in which we live ; and 
offer a powerful antidote to the evils incidental 
to commerce, opulence, luxury, and extended 
dominion. May they long flourish for the benefit 
of mankind ! Dec. 21st 1815. 

Page 99, line 1 . 
Ma, Ckillingworth, whom Archbishop Til- 



CHILI INGWOIvTH . 207 

lotson justly calls the glory of his age and 
nation, was born at Oxford in 1602. Archbi- 
shop Laud, then a Fellow of St. John's College, 
was his godfather. He was scholar, and after- 
wards fellow of Trinity College, Oxford: when 
he was prevailed upon by one Fisher, a Jesuit, to 
quit the English Church for that of Rome, and to 
remove to the Jesuits' College at Doway For his 
return to the English church, he was chiefly in- 
debted to the correspondence and arguments of 
his godfather Archbishop Laud, then Bishop of 
London. Upon full and serious inquiry, he af- 
wards became an enlightened and zealous Protes- 
tant. He had refused Church preferment, from 
scruples as to some of the thirty-nine articles, and 
the Athanasian Creed. These scruples, however, 
were afterwards removed by a; conviction, that it 
was not a subscription, declaratory of assent. or 
belief, (as he had considered it) but to articles of 
peace and union, not to be preached against. 
During the civil war, he was very zealously attach- 
ed to the royal cause ; and, having been taken 
prisoner in Arundel castle in December I G43, died 
. a few weeks after, in consequence of the 
hardships he had endured. He was then in his 



208 CIIILLINGWORTff. 

42d year. His great work, intitled "the reli- 
gion OF PROTESTANTS A SAFE WAY TO SALVA- 
TION,'* is unequalled in perspicuity and closeness 
of argument. Mr. Locke proposes it, as the ob- 
ject of study for all who would excel in right rea- 
soning. His defence of our separation from the 
-Church of Rome, should be well considered by 
those Protestants, who are disposed to deal 
hardly with other denominations of Christians. — 
'By the religion of Protestants (he says) I do 
' not understand the doctrine of Luther, or Cal- 
' vin, or Melanchton ; — nor the confession of 
'Augusta or Geneva, nor the catechism of Heidel- 
' berg, nor the articles of the Church of England, 
* — no, nor the harmony of Protestant confessions; 
' but that wherein they all agree, and which they 
'all subscribe with a greater harmony, as a per- 
'fect rule of their faith and actions, — that is, the 

* Bible. The Bible, I say, the Bible only, is the 
' Religion of Protestants ! — I for my part, after a 
' long and (as I verily believe and hope) an impar- 
'tial search of the true way to eternal happiness, 

* do profess plainly, that I cannot find any rest for 
'the sole of my foot, but upon this rock only. I 
' see plainly and with my own eyes, that there are 



CHILLINGWORTH. 209 

f Popes against Popes, Councils against Councils, 
c some Fathers against others, the same Fathers 
( against themselves, a consent of Fathers of one 
' age against a consent of Fathers of another age. 
( Traditive interpretations of Scripture are pre- 
{ tended : but there are few or none to be found ; 

5 no tradition but only of Scripture, can derive it- 
c self from the fountain, but may be plainly proved 
c to have been brought in, in such an age after 
( Christ,— or that in such an age, they were not 

* in. In a word, there is no sufficient certainty, 
1 but of Scripture only, for any considering man 
' to build upon — I will think no man the worse 
c man nor the worse Christian — I will love no 
c man the less, for differing in opinion from me : 

* and what measure I meet to others, I expect 
€ from them again. I am fully assured that God 
' does not, and therefore that men ought not to 
c require any more of any man than this, — to be- 
'lieve the scripture to be God's word, to 
€ endeavour to find the true sense of it, 

6 and to live according to xt*' 



210 FENELON. 



Page 103, line 13. 

Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambray, a younger 
son of the Count de la Mothe Fenelon, was born 
in 1651* Zealous and enthusiastic in the duties 
of his sacred profession, he no sooner was ordained 
priest, than he meditated a voyage to Canada, 
with a view of devoting his life to the conversion 
of the Indians. This being given up as then im- 
practicable, he adopted the project of going as a 
missionary to the Levant. But his talents and 
zeal were destined to be otherwise employed. 
Having distinguished himself both as a preacher 
and a writer, he was, in 1689, appointed Preceptor 
to the Duke of Burgundy and his two younger 
brothers, the three sons of the Dauphin. His 
extraordinary exertions and success in their edu- 
cation obtained for him the Archbishopric of 
Cambray. Soon after Fenelon's consecration, the 
tenets of the Quietists drew the attention of the 
public. u Their general purport was, that man 
" ought to love God for his own perfections, 
" without any reference to future reward or pu- 
" nishment ; devoted silently to the contempla- 



FENELON. 211 

"tion of the deity, with feelings, that neither 
" language can express, or thought embody." — 
The lives of the Quietists were pious and unex- 
ceptionable : but to their doctrines it was objec- 
ted, that they excluded hope, the foundation of 
Christian virtue, and fear, the beginning of Chris- 
tian wisdom; substituting a passive and quiescent 
devotion, for that constant and assiduous prayer, 
which is expressly enjoined by our blessed Savi- 
our. The Archbishop, though he held some of 
their docttines to be erroneous, and had assisted 
in the examination of them, yet declined to join 
in an unqualified and severe censure of them c 
Being thereupon pressed to declare his sentiments 
on the subject, he produced his u Explication 
des Maximes des Saints sur la Vie interieure ; J<5 
which however not satisfying Bossuet, the Bishop 
of Meaux, he denounced to the King, what he 
called the fanaticism of his mitred brother. 
Lewis the XIV., desirous of compromising a life 
of vicious indulgence by the tyranny of intolerant 
bigotry, immediately exiled the Archbishop from 
his court, and treated him with the most cruel, 
unprincipled, and unrelenting severity. The case 
was submitted to the Pope ; who at the instance 



212 FENELON. 

of the King, instigated by Bossuet, pronounced a 
tardy and unwilling censure of some expressions 
of the Archbishop's, not as being in themselves 
heretical, but as being capable of misleading the 
weak and pious Christian. To this sentence Fe- 
nelon instantly submitted with a degree of humi- 
lity and resignation, that gained the hearts of all, 
except of his malignant opponents. The Pope's 
observation on the termination of the contest, was 
" that Fenelon was in fault for too great love of 
" God, and his enemies equally in fault for too 
ce little love of their neighbour :" his words to 
Fenelon's opponents were these: Peccavit exces* 
su arnoris divini, sed vos peccastis defectu amoris 
proximi* — Fenelon continued in his diocese, uni- 
versally beloved and respected, until his death, at 
the age of sixty-five. His life has been the sub- 
ject of several publications. The last was written 
by Beausset, Bishop of Alais, in 1808. Mr. But- 
ler has made an interesting abridgment from it, 
to which I have chiefly referred. — Quietism ori- 
ginated at Rome, in the sixteenth century, with a 
Spanish Monk of the name of Molinos. It was 
known in Spain in the time of Cervantes ; as ap- 
pears by a sentence which he puts in the mouth 



METHODISM. 213 

of the Governor of Barataria, who was not a quie- 
tist :—" I have heard it preached (says the great 
" Sancho) that God is to be loved for himself 
" alone, without our being moved by the hope of 
" reward, or the fear of punishment : though, for 
cc my part, I am more inclined to love and serve 
"him for what he is able to do for me." 

Page 104, line 18. 

Methodism bad originated in 1729, with Mr. 
Charles and Mr. John Wesley (public tutors of 
Christ Church, and Lincoln College, Oxford) 
agreeing with several of their pupils to meet regu- 
larly to study the Scriptures. The Methodists 
were joined in 1735 by Mr. Whitfield ; and in 
1 740, were increasing rapidly in number and power. 
Being at this time excluded from the Churches 
and Chapels of the establishment, they began 
preaching in the fields ; and justified themselves, 
not only on the ground of necessity as in the case 
of the Scotch clergy, who when they cannot 
otherwise obtain accommodation for all their flock, 
preach occasionally in the fields ; but also by the 
example of our Blessed Saviour, who preached 



214 METHODISM. 

not only in the temple, but on the mount, by the 
sea-side, and in the wilderness. — They began at 
this time to ordain for the ministry, which gave 
great offence. Here also they defended them- 
selves, on the ground of the necessity of continu- 
ing by ordination, the power which they had 
received ; and they also claimed the privilege of a 
divine call and command, to preach the gospel 
with demonstration of the spirit. Their manner 
of preaching was earnest and powerful, but at the 
same time objected to, as sometimes being mixed 
with a familiarity of manner, which if not pro- 
fane, was in many instances indecorous. To this 
they answered, that if the vicious, the ignorant, 
and the thoughtless are to be addressed, — if sin- 
ners are to be called to repentance, — and if it be 
the object to awaken those who are dead in their 
sins, an impressive and attractive manner is abso- 
lutely necessary. — They affected a degree of con- 
tempt for human learning; as if the experience of 
the monkish ages had not shewn, that when 
learning was neglected and despised, the doctrines 
of Christianity were corrupted and deteriorated. — 
The hostility, which they encountered from the 
clergy of the established Church, induced them to 



IMMORTALITY. 215 

retaliate by casting improper and unworthy reflec- 
tions on the Parochial Clergy, whom they stigma- 
tised as their indolent, earthly-minded, pleasure- 
taking brethren ; censuring them for neglect of 
their duty, and observing that people would be 
every where willing to hear, if the ministers were 
ready to teach the truth, as it is in Jesus. Upon 
this Bishop Gibson very justly observes in his cau- 
tion against enthusiasm, contained in his fourth 
Pastoral Letter, that c the success of ministers in 
€ the discharge of their duty, depends greatly upon 
' the esteem and good opinion of their people \ 
' and they, who go about to represent the paro- 
6 chial clergy as unable or unwilling to teach 

* their people aright, are so far answerable for de- 
' feating the good effects, that their ministry 

* might otherwise have/ 

Page 113, line 10. 

It is very gratifying to contemplate the fore- 
bodings of immortality, which cheered and illu- 
minated the close of Bishop Hough's life. In a 
letter to Mrs. Knightley on the loss of a friend, 
he observes upon the power of faith, to open the 



216 IMMORTALITY. 

regions of eternal bliss, and discover those, who 
have been bright examples in this world, in so 
glorious a state there, as would animate hope, 
abate regret, and invigorate endeavours to follow 
them. " Who (he continues) can conceive the trans- 
port of joy that will attend such a meeting? and 
how insignificant will the former short separation 
appear ? Indeed, Madam, there was a time when I 
possessed one (alluding to his dear and regretted 
wife) who was the desire of mine eyes, and the 
delight of my heart. I relished every thing with 
her, and nothing without her. We both knew the 
common fate of mankind ; that a parting was un- 
avoidable. It was very often the subject of our dis- 
course, and I will not say what convulsions attend- 
ed it ; but I thank God, I had the hope of a 
Christian, and that supported me : and let you 
and me keep up our spirits in that confidence, 
that the variable and transitory state in which we 
now live will soon pass over ; when we and our 
friends shall find ourselves together again, — inse* 
parable, and unalterably happy for evermore." 



STUDIOUS MEN. 21 7 



Page 114, line 20. 

Op the literary characters alluded to in the text, 
under the title of ana, St. Kvremond, as well as 
Huet, passed the a*ze of !)0 ; Chevereau that of 
88, Valesius 85, Longerue 32, Poggio 79, and 
Duchat nd Segrais 77. Furetiere died at 68, and 
Cardinal Perron at 62. The other two did not 
live to attain the age of sixty. — Of literary men 
noticed in the present work, Sancroft died at 77, 
Gibson at 79; Newton, Waller, and Clement the 
Twelfth passed the period of 80 ; and Hough, 
Robinson, Fleury, Floyer, Maynard, and Wren 
exceeded the advanced age of ninety. — Bishop 
Huet himself was a remarkable instance of health 
and longevity, in a very studious man. He had 
been a hard student from his infancy ; and ' nei- 
i ther the heat of youth, nor multiplicity of busi- 
4 ness, nor the love of company, nor the hurry of 
6 the world had ever been able to moderate his 
6 invincible love of letters/ — Huet was born on the 
8th of February 1636. His literary attainments 
led to his appointment in 1659, of Subpreceptor 
to the Dauphin: and to him we are chiefly in- 



218 CERVANTES. 

debted for the Delphin editions of the classics. 
Though his studies directed him to the church, he 
did not enter into holy orders until 1676, when 
he was 46 years of age. In 1685, he was nomi- 
nated to the Bishopric of Avranches, which he 
resigned in 1699 ; and having spent the remain- 
ing twenty years of his life in devotion and study, 
died on the 26th of January 1721, in his ninety- 
first year. 

Page 119, line 6. 

The Bishop alludes in this place to passages in 
Don Quixote, levelled at the abominable tyranny 
of the inquisition, the absurd doctrine of fla- 
gellation, and the vices and frauds of papal 
Rome. The disinchantment of Dulcinea by the 
whipping of Sancho, has an evident reference to 
what was then a great source of wealth to the 
clergy ; who exacted large sums from the opu- 
lent, under the pretence of self-inflicted flagella- 
tions, to compensate for the sins of those, who 
could afford to pay for the compromise. There 
were, however, some who inflicted this penance 
on themselves with real severity. The great 



CERVANTES. 219 

Lope de Vega, then Secretary to the Inquisi- 
tion, is said to have died of the effects of this self- 
applied discipline. Sancho at first objects to it; 
he does not see what his penance and sufferings 
can have to do with the sins and trangressions of 
others. But as soon as he is to be paid for every 
lash, he undergoes the penance like a true friar, 
taking care so to manage it, as he intimates the 
priests did their flagellations, as not to feel any 
pain from it. — What shall we say of the Quixot- 
ism of Cervantes, in thus boldly attacking this 
abuse, amidst a credulous laity attached to it, and 
a knavish clergy interested in the continuance of 
the imposition ? The adventure of the speaking 
head, which Cervantes tells us, " was broken in 
"pieces by order of those watchful centinels of our 
"faith, the gentlemen of the inquisition," — and 
that of the prophesying ape, as to whom Don 
Quixote expresses his surprise, that he has not 
been accused to the inquisition, and examined by 
tortwe, till he confess by virtue of what or whom 
he divines,— are both levelled at the inquisition. 
In that of the restoration of Altesidora to life, 
Sancho Panza was dressed in the ridiculous dress, 
which was worn at the stake by the victims of the 



220 CERVANTES. 

inquisition, as Cervantes himself tells us. Even 
if he had not risked the observation, the allusion 
would havt* been obvious, on comparing the ac-< 
count of Sancho's dress, with the following 
account of the execution of the Bohemian Martyr, 
John Huss ; who was burnt alive in 1415, for 
holding that, in the eucharist, the wine as well as 
the bread ought to be administered to the laity: — 
* They put a paper coronet on his head, on which 
'they had painted ihree devils, with this inscrip- 
tion, an arch hkketick; and said we devote 
c thy soul to the infernal devils" When the 
6 painted paper was put on his head, one of the 
bishops said, u now we commit thy soul to the 
c devil." At the stake the paper crown falling off 
c his head, the soldiers put it on again, saying, 
€ that it must be burnt with the devils whom he 
€ served/ — The devoting of the soul of their vic- 
tim to the infernal devils, was pro salute animae. 
— On these painted flames and painted devils, 
however, Sancho sarcastically observes, "well 
"enough yet! these do not burn me, nor 
"do those carry me away." — Sancho's ac- 
count of his own orthodoxy, is very catholic : — I 
"believe in all that our holy church prescribes; 



CERVANTES. 221 

cc and I mortally hate all Jews and Hereiicks" 

What, however, this original and inimitable 

author might have done, and how far, in his dis- 
play of the vices and corruptions of papal Rome, 
he would have surpassed all that Lcxcian has said 
on the follies and absurdities of Polytheism, may 
be conjectured from an anecdote in the Segraisi- 
ana: — Upon the French ambassador compli- 
menting Cervantes, on the wit and humour of 
Don Quixote, he replied, Ci I would have made it 
" much more diverting, if I had not been afraid of 
" the inquisition." — The reader may, perhaps, 
not dislike to be reminded briefly of some of the 
leading incidents of his life. — Cervantes was 
born in October 1547> and was educated at Ma- 
drid. In 1571 5 he lost his left hand at the battle 
of Lepanto ; and in September 1575, as he was 
passing in a galley to Spain, he was taken by a 
Corsair and carried a slave to Barbary, He ob- 
tained his liberty in 1580; returned to Spain, 
and devoted the remainder of his life to literary 
pursuits. His Galatea was published a: Madrid 
in 1584. For the next ten years, he was employ- 
ed in writing for the Spanish stage, and produced 
no less than thirty comedies during that period. 



222 HOARDING. 

From 1594, he passed some years in La Mancha, 
where he was employed on his Don Quixote ; 
the first part of which he published at Madrid in 
1605, and the second part in 1615. He died in 
his sixty-ninth year, on the 23d of April 1616; 
the same day that deprived the world of our dra- 
matic poet, Shakespeare. 

Page 127, line 3. 

Bishop Hough generally kept a sum of mo- 
ney by him for contingencies. As examples of 
the use which he made of his hoarding, I will 
give two well-authenticated anecdotes ; one of a 
public nature, the other of a private one.— The 
collectors for a charity, calling on him one day 
for his contribution, the Bishop ordered them 
£500.: and his secretary making some demur to 
so large a sum, he said, u you are right, Harrison, 
" it is not enough. Give the gentlemen a thou- 
" sand pounds: you will find them in my bureau. 3 ' 
—The other is of a private nature. — A poor wi- 
dow applied to him for mitigation of a fine on the 
renewal of her lease. The Bishop heard her 
story, forgave her the whole fine, and presented 






CHARITY SCHOOLS. 223 

her with LlOC towards the support of a nume- 
rous family; saying to his steward, " How can 
a we apply this money, good Harrison, to a bet- 
' c ter purpose ?" 

Page 137, line 5. 

About the beginning of the eighteenth century, 
efforts were made by an association of pious and 
elevated individuals, both of the clergy and laity, 
the objects of which, as expressed in the pream- 
ble to their first subscription rolls, were'* promot- 
Ci ing Christian knowledge, by erecting cateche- 
tical schools, by raising lending-catechetical 
cc libraries in the several market towns of the 
a kingdom, and by distributing good books." The 
Education of youth, by the erection and esta- 
blishment of charity and Sunday schools, was 
adopted by them, as an object of the first impor- 
tance ; and it appears by the statement of the So- 
ciety in the year 1741, that no less than sixteen 
hundred charity schools, had already been esta- 
blished in England and Wales. All this was ad- 
mirably calculated to check the gross and licenti- 
ous manners, which had prevailed among all 



224 OCCUPATION. 

classes of people after the Restoration. Much 
good has certainly been done by the schools then 
established ; though many of them now require 
to be brought into more activity, and to be made 
more generally useful, and more conformable to 
the benevolent views of the founders. Much in- 
deed still remains to be done, notwithstanding the 
great exertions which have been lately made, and 
are now making in every part of the kingdom. 
England has never yet had a legal provision for 
universal education, such as Scotland has 
now enjoyed fo; above a century: nor has it till 
lately, had the benefit of Dr. Bell's invaluable 
discovery, which is likely to render such a !?gal 
provision of less moment in future. 

Page 142, line 18. 

There are very few persons, who have not 
met with cases of hypochondriacs, who have been 
relieved and made more happy, by useful and 
disinterested occupation in promoting the welfare 
of others : but I have not known of any instance 
of a cure perfected in a case apparently so hope- 
less^ as that of Captain Blake, distinguished 



OCCUPATION. 225 

for his benevolent exertions, in the attempt to 
supply London with fish by land carriage. — The 
late Dr. Heberden used very frequently to be sent 
for by him. The Captain was a hypochrondriac, 
attentive to every little feeling, and anxious about 
its consequences. In this state he continued for 
several years ; and was during that time seldom 
more than a week or two, without consulting the 
Doctor; who had tried not only all the medicines, 
which he thought likely to correct any cause of 
disease arising from bodily infirmity, but every 
argument, which his humanity and good sense 
could suggest, for the comfort of his mind ; but 
in vain. At length Dr. Heberden heard no more 
of his patient ; till after a considerable interval, 
he found that Captain Blake had formed a pro- 
ject of conveying fish to London, from some of 
the sea-ports in the west, by means of little carts 
adapted for expeditious land carriage. The ar- 
rangement and various occupation of the mind, ih 
forwarding this object, were sufficient entirely to 
supersede all sense of his former malady; which 
from that time, as far as is known, never return- 
ed. — The late Dr. Heberden used frequently to 
mention in conversation the circumstances of this 
Q 



126 PARENTAL AFFECTION. 

extraordinary case : which was communicated to 
me by his son, the present Dr. Heberden, through 
our common friend, the Bishop of Durham. 

Page 145, line 14. 

The following confirmation of this remark, I 
have from an authority on which I can depend. — 
In the year 1789, during the prevalence of a par- 
tial scarcity in Bengal, many of the poorer natives 
were driven to send some of their children to Cal- 
cutta, and offer them for sale. A noble lord, at that 
time a Member of the Supreme Council of Ben- 
gal, directed his servant to purchase them, giving 
the parents at the same time an assurance that, on 
the return of plenty, their children should be res- 
tored to them> on application. Of those purcha- 
sed, there was only one reclaimed by its parent ; 
and that, the child of a poor woman, who derived 
her subsistence from the lowest species of labou? ; 
and the child teas deaf and dumb, incapable of 
making any return for her care. The prospects 
of this child would have beeen dark and cheerless,, 
without this heaven-directed sympathy and af- 
fection. 



MACCAIL. 227 



Page 158, line 11. 

Maccail was a Scotch probationer preacher, 
one of the sacrifices offered at Edinburgh, by 
Archbishop Sharp in 1666, to the bigotry and 
tyranny of the court. He sunk under the tor- 
ture; and died in a rapture of joy ; uttering with 
a firm voice, and in a manner that astonished his 
hearers, the words which appear to be quoted by 
Bishop Hough in the dialogue, — Sharp fell a sa- 
crifice to public indignation, thirteen years after, 
in 1679. 

Pagel6\, UneS. 

The tranquil anticipation of a future state, and 
the forebodings of eternal and unfailing happi- 
ness, had diffused over the close of the Bishop's 
life, a gleam of light which displayed itself in his 
countenance, and in his conversation and correspon- 
dence. Extracts from two or three of his letters will, 
I am persuaded be acceptable to the Christian rea- 
der—The first I shall offer him, is of the 6th of 
April 1 743, written six days before he entered 



228 CLOSE OF LIFE. 

into his ninety third year, and only four weeks 
before his death : — " I apprehend I shall not live 
" to see much more of the coming year, though I 
u wear out leisurely, and am free from sickness 
a and pain. The moderate degree of understand- 
ing, which God was pleased to give me, does not 
" impair. — I have no doubt, but that when our 
cc gracious redeemer comes in all his glory to 
"judge mankind, you and I, with all faithful people, 
u shall, through the mercy of God, and in his 
"merits, find a place at hts right hand. What 
Ci our portion may be in his kingdom, is known 
" only to his Father and himself ; but this is re- 
" vealed to us, that there are pleasures above our 
u conception, and durable to all eternity. " — The 
other, to Lord Digby, was a fortnight after:— I 
a am weak and forgetful, having as little inclina- 
" tion to business, as ability to perform it. In 
" other respects, I have ease, if it may not more 
" properly be called indolence, to a degree beyond 
Ci what I durst have thought on, when years be- 
"gan to multiply upon me. I wait contentedly 
c< for a deliverance out of this life into a better, in 
" humble confidence, that by the mercy of God, 
" through the merits of his Son, I shall stand at 



CLOSE OP LIFE. 229 

" the resurrection, on his right hand : and when 
<c you, my Lord, have ended those days that are to 
K come, as innocently and exemplarily as those 
" that are past, I doubt not of our meeting in 
a that state, where the joys are unspeakable, and 
" will always endure/ 5 — Four days before his 
death, in a letter to his friend Bishop Gibson, he 
expresses himself thus : — u I lately saw the day 
C€ when I entered into the ninety-third year of my 
iC life ) and I thought it a very proper season to 
a make particular inquiry into the state of it. I 
" found the last year to have impaired every fa- 
u culty of mind and body, more than I could have 
" imagined f and by such imperceptible degrees, 
" that I was not aware how treacherously it stole 
iC upon me, and how deep impressions it had 
u made, till the several items of my loss came to- 
" gether in full view ; and then it appeared I 
u had suffered so much, as left little to support 
" the remainder of life. I think it can be but of 
t€ short duration ; and I thank God, the prospect 
" gives me no uneasiness." — His dying words to 
some of his friends and neighbours, who attended 
the Bishop in his last moments, were u we part 

" TO MEET AGAIN, I HOPE IN ENDLESS JOYS." — 



230 CLOSE OF LIFE. 

It was observed by a person then psesent that, 
« as he had on former occasions expressed his well 
grounded hopes of immortality, so they gradually 
grew stronger upon him, and seemed to be more 
vigorous in proportion to the decays of his body. 
— His lamp of life burnt clear, if not bright to 
the last ; and though his body was weak, he had 
no pain or sickness. — His end was peace, and he 
enjoyed tranquillity at the last. The easiness of 
his death seems to have been as much derived, 

from THE SERENITY OF HIS MIND AND A GOOD 

conscience, as from his insensibly exhausted 
spirits, or rather by the concurrence of both. In 
the scripture language, he gently fell asleep." — 
Who would not wish for such a close of 
mortal existence ? let me die the death 
of the righteous j and let my last e$d be 

LIKE His! 



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